The Anniversary
by LittleMaggie
Summary: Everyone\'s in their early 20\'s and at Harry\'s second wedding anniversary, when Ginny encounters a handsome stranger - Draco - except she doens\'t know it\'s him! Fluff ahead! H/ HR, D/G, R/New Char. Alternative ending added! :-)
1. Default Chapter

Title: The Anniversary  
  
Author: LittleMaggie  
  
Summary: Harry is 22. He holds a party for his 1st anniversary of his wedding to Hermione. Curious of what happened to Draco, Ginny, the other Weasleys, Harry, Hermione? R&R. D/G? H/Hr? R/? . . . ? Look to see. PG so far.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I want to for other then making me rich I would most likely ruin its perfection!  
  
Rating:  
  
Date of creation: January 31, 2002 – February 1, 2002  
  
~*~  
  
A thin, piercing wail rattled the crisp morning air. Two big green eyes opened to fix on the fluorescent digits of the alarm clock – 7:00. With a groan, Harry rolled over to face the body lying right next to his. Through the tangle of dark brown hair fuzzily wrapped around a round face Harry could distinguish the features of his wife. He gently traced his finger down her cheek.  
  
" Hey, rise and shine, sleeping beauty." He whispered, making his voice tender, despite the fact he was less then happy to wake up.  
  
She turned her head towards him, a tumble of hair flowing off her forehead. She tossed a lot in her sleep and her hair would end up wrapping across her face and tangling badly. Usually she'd braid it before going to bed but they came home late yesterday from a party at the Weasleys.  
  
" Hmm." She mumbled, eyes flickering open to take in the face hovering over hers. His glasses were off, lying tenderly beside the digital clock that stood on the little bedside table. Her lips widened in a smile and she grasped the pillow under her head and pulled it out sharply, slowly bashing him with it. " Aw, Harry, it's seven!"  
  
He sat up, sitting back on his heels over her. " Actually, two minutes past. You overslept already." His hands grasped tightly on the pillow and he brought it down over her face. Her muffled laughter filled the room as she wrestled out from beneath the pillow and then revealed a rosy face to him.  
  
" What would I do without my own personal alarm clock." She commented.  
  
Harry knew she meant him, not the digital clock on the table. He reached over and pulled on his glasses. The room came into focus.  
  
" You remember what day it is, don't you?" Hermione asked.  
  
Harry laughed. " Oh, sure, I gotta get my tuxedo back from the dry cleaners."  
  
Her face grew stern. "Don't even joke about it." She sat up, shaking her head. Slowly, she knelt beside the bureau at the side of the bed and then began to rummage through it for some fresh underclothes.  
  
" I know, I know." Harry's eyes wandered to the bump under the little white doily that was in the center of the table, right beside the clock. " It's our anniversary. A year of happy marriage, Herm!"  
  
Hermione turned to look at him. " Doesn't it feel like our wedding was just yesterday?"  
  
" Maybe it was." Harry teased. "Maybe we slept for a year, like that Rip Van Winkle fellow, and now it feels like yesterday when it was a year."  
  
She rolled her eyes. " Oh, come on." She held up a white silky slip to her flowery pajamas. " Do you think this wouldn't shine through that dress I'm going to wear?"  
  
He growled sexily, like a tiger. " I wouldn't know. Put it on."  
  
She laughed and wagged her finger at him, then stood up, tugging along an armload of cosmetics, lingerie, and other accessories. " Should I curl my hair or have it up in a bun? Maybe straighten it a bit?" Hermione tilted her head as she looked in the mirror.  
  
" Hermione, relax." Harry said. " However you choose, you'll be the greatest girl there."  
  
Hermione pulled a little elastic rubber band around her hair so it would stay in back momentarily in a bushy ponytail. She walked across the room to the built-in bathroom. She swung the door open and dumped her things on the sink. Harry watched her swing the door shut behind her.  
  
He now stood up, yawning in the middle of an extensive stretch. He felt a light crick in the bottom of his spine. 'Getting old', he thought in a bemused tone. Then, he got some clothing ready for himself. With Hermione occupying the bathroom in the bedroom, Harry was forced to go through the hallway of her average suburban home and then use the bathroom downstairs to wash and dress.  
  
His whole body shivered in anticipation. He had invited lots of people he knew over the years in Hogwarts. The party would be like a huge reunion. He had reserved a separate room in a ritzy restaurant, just so that Muggles wouldn't share the room and overhear something they did not need to know. Harry also demanded to have no waiters or waitresses catering the event. He rented out a set of buffet tables to satisfy his guests and at the same time keep the Muggles out of the room.  
  
With a satisfied smile, Harry glanced in the mirror at his reflection. Despite the scratch on the bathroom mirror's glass that seemed to run across Harry's face in a scar in the reflection, Harry deemed himself rather good-looking. As he pulled out the shaving cream to get rid of the stubble on his face, Harry realized he'd have never thought he'd have such a happy life as an adult.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry and Hermione stood waiting in the doorway of the room they had rented in the restaurant. The neon sign above the door flickered: ' Exit'. The first guests would come any second now . . .  
  
A tall red-haired man stepped in a lively manner through the door, his cheeks reddened and droplets of sweat on the tip of his nose. A lively sprinkling of freckles covered his face. The man took one look at Harry and Hermione and exclaimed: " Fred! Get a look at him! Golly, Harry, Hermione, you both look great!"  
  
" Nice to see you, George." Hermione embraced him lightly, and then Harry shook his hand. To Harry's utter shock, George's hand came off and fell to the floor with a clatter.  
  
" Ha! Fake hand! We got him, George." An identical copy of George appeared beside Fred all of a sudden. Hermione looked from Fred to George, mouth falling open in shock. Then, she laughed.  
  
" Good one!" She grinned cheerfully at the twins and then motioned at a table. "Sit down, you guys. There should be a pitcher of water waiting on each table. You look warmed up."  
  
" We sort of had a hell of a time getting Dad's Muggle car started." Fred explained. George tugged on Fred's sleeve and they both maneuvered themselves to a table. Once seated, the two argued over who gets the first glass of water.  
  
Harry grinned and then watched a man and woman walk through the door. The man had his arms around the woman, who was quite plump and looked to be in her late forties. Her hair was streaked with gray and cheerful wrinkles circled her mouth and the corners of her eyes. The man looked unusually cheerful as well.  
  
" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley!" Harry exclaimed, rushing up to give Molly Weasley a kiss on the cheek and a tight hug. Then, while Hermione did the same, Harry shook hands with Arthur Weasley. " Mrs. Weasley, if I must say, you're looking younger every day."  
  
Molly laughed. " Oh, Harry, you old charmer." She winked at Hermione and added: " I always thought he was a nice boy, Hermione, dear. You feed him well, keep him pampered."  
  
Hermione blushed. " Oh, I feed him well alright." She poked Harry in the stomach. Harry was no longer the thin lanky boy of Hogwarts time. At twenty-two, his body had grown to be that of a man's, his shoulders broad and chest wide, finally filling in all the loose space that he used to have in his suits and tuxedos.  
  
Molly and Arthur smiled and then went over to where the twins were sitting. Fred and George immediately let go of their jointed hold on the water pitcher.  
  
Next a girl walked in, her hair red and done up with little Japanese chopstick-like hair accessories. Along with her was Ron. Ron hugged Harry and then Hermione, and then the girl got to hug Harry and Hermione. She blushed lightly as Harry hugged her. Her hand brushed a red strand of hair from her face and she held up a little bag. "Here's something for you two, from the Weasleys."  
  
" Thanks, Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, taking the gift. Hermione slowly pulled the insides of the bag out and then pulled aside the tissue paper. There, hidden in it, was a pure-gold picture frame with the words 'Love is Gold' on the top of it. Inside was a picture of Harry and Hermione holding hands. Harry recognized the picture from their visit to the Weasleys at Christmas a year ago.  
  
" It's beautiful!" Hermione cried out. " I have just the place to put it." She tenderly wrapped it up again and slipped the gift back into the baggy. Then, she put the gift onto a table designated for gifts.  
  
Five minutes passed and nobody seemed to come. Then, Percy and Charlie walked in, both looking flushed. " Whew, talk about bad experiences with Floo Powder." Charlie said to Percy. Percy's face was smudged with ash.  
  
The Potter couple greeted them merrily. Next came the Grangers, both kissing their son-in-law and daughter gaily. Then, they were seated at the huge table with the Weasleys.  
  
A lost-looking young man approached the doorway. He looked around, then suddenly cried out: "Hermione! Harry!" He approached them but tripped on an extension cord that was snaking across the floor.  
  
" Oh, Neville." Hermione laughed and helped him up. Then, they greeted him happily. Behind him was Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Padme Patil. They were all laughing about something. When they caught sight of Harry and Hermione, they all exclaimed about how stylish Hermione's dress was and how handsome Harry looked today. They sat down with a very nervous-looking Neville. Neville looked elated to be sitting with the three ladies.  
  
Oliver Wood and a few other Quidditch team members walked in, and after chatting with Harry and Hermione about the recent Quidditch World Cup match, they were seated. Cho Chang lingered a while beside Harry, asking him how life was and whether he liked his new life or if he missed Hogwarts. She, too, was seated after a while.  
  
People were now piling through the door in throngs. Seamus Finnigan brought along a girl he was dating, a pretty girl that graduated from Beauxbaxton and was now a famous auror.  
  
" How's life treating you?" A girl named Susan Bones asked Harry.  
  
" Great!" Harry replied, with a smile that was definitely not phony or cheesy. A few other people walked in. Harry checked off people on a list of guests as they walked in. Soon, only one name remained on the list and this particular person was ten minutes late. Harry circled the name: Draco Malfoy.  
  
" I wonder what happened to him." Hermione said, softly.  
  
" I don't think he ever liked me much." Harry laughed. " Maybe he doesn't want to come."  
  
" Well, it was only nice to ask him to come. I haven't seen him, personally, since we graduated."  
  
" Neither have I." Harry replied. " Maybe he's grown out of his nasty stage."  
  
" And pigs fly." Hermione murmured.  
  
Just then, a tall man appeared in the doorway. His face was handsome, very handsome in fact, like that of someone who ought to be on magazine covers and in movies. His hair was a very light blonde, feathery and soft and curling lightly around his face. The gray-blue eyes that peered from the face were recognizable to Harry. "Malfoy." Harry said. "Speak of the devil!"  
  
' Odd that we were just speaking of him', Harry thought in his mind.  
  
Draco looked Harry and Hermione over. "Well! Mr. and Mrs. Potter." He smiled. Harry was taken aback by how he wasn't frowning as he was so used to seeing Draco. Draco's eyes lingered on Hermione for a while. Finally, he said, just barely audibly: "You look nice." Then, he turned to look at Harry. " Nice tux, Potter."  
  
Harry's eyes wandered to the two very large and frigthening-looking men towering behind Draco. Draco, who was taller then Harry anyhow (Harry was 6 feet and 3 inches), still looked short next to these two behind him.  
  
" They're my bodyguards." Malfoy laughed, motioning at Crabbe and Goyle. He suddenly turned around, pale eyes focusing on what his two pals were doing behind his back. The two were standing by the buffet table. There was Crabbe, pushing something leafy and green into his mouth, chewing noisily. Goyle was loading a small plate with heaps of food.  
  
" Crabbe, really! That green thing was a TABLE DECORATION!" Draco's hand shot up to his face, where he squeezed the sides of his nose, right between his eyes, like stressed-out people do.  
  
Hermione laughed.  
  
Draco turned to look at them, shaking his head. " Can't take them anywhere." He sighed and said: "You guys, let's get a seat, alright?"  
  
" Sure, Draco." Goyle said thickly. Crabbe and Goyle followed Draco to a seat.  
  
" Hey. Something's wrong. Why isn't Malfoy evil?" Hermione asked Harry, in a lowered voice. " I expected to be called Mudblood or something, but . . ."  
  
" I suppose people change." Harry said, thoughtfully. " And some don't." He added, for Neville had just spilled a glass of water all over himself. Harry ran over to Neville and handed the poor fellow a handful of tissues. Neville gave Harry a weak smile of gratitude as he wiped at his suit until the tissues were only thin white shreds in his hands.  
  
Harry waited until everyone was settled down. Then, he went to the front of the room with Hermione and he said, his voice loud to reach the farthest corners of the room: "Thank you, all of you, for being here."  
  
Hermione continued for him: " Some of you I haven't seen for years, some of you I've seen just yesterday. Yet all of you were with me ever since I left Hogwarts."  
  
Draco was shaking his head. "Not me." Draco said, softly. A few people laughed. Hermione smiled, embarrassed, and then let Harry pick up the speech for she suddenly didn't know what else to say.  
  
" Uh, the buffet tables are waiting, so don't hesitate to eat, there's plenty of food. Enjoy the party." Harry gave the guests a lopsided grin and then turned to Hermione.  
  
"Where do we sit?" She asked him.  
  
" There's not much room at any table left for both of us. . ." Suddenly, Hermione noticed that there was a table where only three people sat. She figured it was only polite to sit there, when she felt a stab in her stomach to see who these three people were – Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe.  
  
" Do we. . .?" Harry asked, softly.  
  
She nodded lightly. " Yes. Who knows, maybe he is different." Hermione gently grasped her dress at the sides and lifted upwards so she could move her legs without slipping on the long gown. It was a lovely red dress with a pink floral pattern lacing around the neck. Little golden buttons went down the back and it was tied with a shiny sash. A fake flower was wound around the bow in back.  
  
Harry approached Draco's table and then hesitated slightly before asking: "Can we sit here, uh. . . Draco?"  
  
He shrugged. " If you so please." His fingers lifted a little wineglass tenderly and he swirled it around, the red liquid inside bobbing up and down as if someone had encased an ocean in the glass. Then, he took a slow drink of it, his eyes not once falling directly on Harry or Hermione.  
  
" So – what have you been up to?" Harry asked, slowly, trying to strike up some sort of conversation. He and Hermione had seated themselves across the table, opposite of the Malfoy.  
  
" Nothing worth speaking of." Draco replied, cutting the conversation short.  
  
" When we graduated, you were dating Pansy Parkinson. Are you. . .?" Hermione asked, slowly.  
  
" No." Draco said, sharply. A bit too sharply.  
  
Harry and Hermione gaped at him, and he pressed his lips together tightly until they were nearly white. He said no more, not even an apology for his sharp tone.  
  
" If I can ask, what happened?" Hermione asked. Harry realized Hermione looked genuinely concerned. This was a reason why Harry liked her so very much – she was always so concerned about the wellbeing of others.  
  
" Pansy died." Goyle said, slowly, his eyes blinking stupidly. " She had, uh . . . what's it called, Crabbe?"  
  
" Don't know." Crabbe replied. He was piling food into his mouth with a fork and a spoon so that his mouth wouldn't be empty in the time the fork was traveling back down to get more food (he'd use the spoon to bring food up again instantly).  
  
" Oh, that's terrible! I'm so sorry." Hermione said.  
  
" How long ago?" Harry inquired.  
  
Draco's tightly pressed lips didn't loosen. He looked down at his plate onto which he had placed a sad, single slice of honeydew cantaloupe. Finally, he budged just a bit: "A year ago today."  
  
" Our sincerest condolences." Harry said. He felt a bit sorry now. No wonder Draco wasn't able to come to their wedding. . .  
  
" You ain't going to cry, now, Draco?" Vincent asked innocently.  
  
Draco's eyes squeezed tight and then opened again, the coldness in them seemingly melted at least for the moment as he turned to Crabbe to say: " No. I won't." Then, he took another sip of wine, still cool and nonchalant.  
  
Harry sighed and leaned back in his seat. The wooden chair creaked noisily as he did so.  
  
" What was the cause of the death?" Hermione asked, again. She was curious, if anything.  
  
Draco didn't look eager to answer. He took in a deep breath and then said: " A Muggle hit her with his car. She and I were supposed to meet not far from the sight of the accident."  
  
" That's horrible." Harry said.  
  
" Well! I won't let my misery spoil your . . ." Draco made his voice rise from the monotone he was using so far. " . . . Fun and games." He fell silent now. Hermione and Harry were silent too.  
  
" Harry. . ." Hermione squeezed Harry's hand tightly beneath the table and then motioned at the doorway of the room with her head.  
  
" Mmm?" Harry inquired with a murmur.  
  
" I think we forgot to ask for an extra set of napkins." Hermione put on a huge smile, so fake that even the often-smiling Hermione couldn't cover it.  
  
Harry's mouth formed a little 'O' and he stood up quickly. " The napkins. I forgot all about them!" He exclaimed, then turned back to Draco. "Excuse us, would you?"  
  
Draco made a motion with his finger, as if he were a King dismissing his subjects. The Potter couple trotted away quickly and then found themselves standing out in the hallway that ran by the room they were renting.  
  
" Poor Draco!" Hermione whispered. " I think he ought to get acquainted with some girl, don't you think, before he gets so depressed he'll go single for the rest of his life."  
  
" Is that why you dragged me here?" Harry leaned back onto the wall. "To say your pities? I mean, sure, I feel horrible for him, and all, but it's our anniversary."  
  
" Hold on, Harry." A devilish look crossed Hermione's face. " Is Ginny dating anyone?"  
  
Harry was taken aback. "What does Ginny have to do with . . ."  
  
" I'll tell you later. Look, is she dating?"  
  
" Not since she dumped that jerk that kept hitting her." A look of anger crossed Harry's face at the memory. " The little. . ." A line of profanities were hanging on Harry's tongue but Hermione cut him off.  
  
" Okay, that's all I need to know." Harry watched Hermione twirl around on her heels and then walk back into the room. Harry nabbed a handful of napkins from the service table out in the hallway, just to keep up their alibi, and then stepped inside.  
  
Harry saw that Hermione was speaking with Ginny beside the buffet table. Harry approached Hermione only to catch a few bits of Ginny and Hermione's conversation:  
  
" Ginny, by the way, did you see Draco Malfoy today?"  
  
Ginny laughed. "That white string bean? I didn't see him since graduation."  
  
' Not a string bean now.' Harry thought, turning his head to where Draco was sitting. He was having a conversation with Padme Patil. Padme was blushing furiously as Draco gave her a winning smile.  
  
Hermione shook her head. " Actually, he looks rather different now, Ginny. You don't think you could. . ."  
  
" Hermione!" A shrill voice shrieked from across the room. Lavender Brown was making her way towards Hermione. " Oh, I simply MUST know the name of whomever did your hair! It's simply darling! Just like something from Witch Fashion Weekly!" Lavender fluttered her eyelashes happily.  
  
" Hold that thought." Hermione said to Ginny. Then, Hermione walked off to speak to Lavender about her hair.  
  
Harry shrugged and went to sit down at the table with Draco. Draco looked up just as Harry plopped himself down in the seat and then placed the stack of napkins down on the table in front of Draco. "Got the napkins." Harry said, as if he needed to remind everyone of where he had just gone, for reassurance. One of the napkins fluttered down to cover Draco's uneaten slice of cantaloupe. It quickly grew transparent as the sweet juice of the melon filled its paper content. "Sorry." Harry added, lamely.  
  
Draco looked down at the food with about as much interest as a child would look at a bowl of spinach soup. He pushed the plate forwards until it clunked against the white vase full of flowers in the center of the table. " I wasn't hungry, anyway."  
  
Harry shifted. That morning, he had retrieved Hermione's gift and put it into the pocket of his pants. He had hidden it under the white doily for the day before.  
  
Suddenly, laughter filled the room as Fred tripped George on the way to the buffet table. Ginny Weasley helped Fred up and then bent over to pick up a dropped dish. Draco looked up and for the first time that night a spark of interest filled his eye. "Who's that?" Draco asked, pointing towards Ginny.  
  
Harry turned and said: "That's Fred and George Weasley, of course!"  
  
Draco shook his head. " Potter, I mean the girl. With the red hair?"  
  
Harry exclaimed: " Why, that's Ginny Weasley! Remember her?"  
  
Draco recalled the thin, lanky girl that followed Harry around on the day of their graduation from Hogwarts. He shook his head once more. " Hell no."  
  
" Yes." Harry nodded in contrast to Draco's movement.  
  
Draco looked bewildered. " You're pulling my leg." Draco said, simply. He didn't say anything else, though.  
  
Harry stood up. "I'll go get myself something to eat. Do you want me to bring you anything?"  
  
" No." Draco replied. Then, he added, a bit unused to the word, most likely: "No, thank you."  
  
Harry shrugged and stood to get in line at the buffet table. Others were already eating happily. Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Cho Chang. She grinned. " Harry, I have a gift just for you, a separate one from Hermione." Cho smiled wider as she placed a little felt box onto Harry's open palm. He looked down at it.  
  
" T – thanks, Cho." Harry slowly opened the felt box and caught sight of a lovely ruby brooch set in gold, made to look like a little Snitch. " Wow! It's really something!" He lifted it from the box and then pinned it down at the breast of his suit. " I'll wear it tonight. Thank you!"  
  
She nodded. " It'll remind you of lots of merry memories of Quidditch."  
  
" It sure will." Harry looked down at it. The ruby reflected dozens of golden speckles of light. He twiddled it a bit and a light shone right into Cho's eye. She blinked and then laughed.  
  
" You were a great Seeker, Harry, and a great Captain, too. When you were Captain of the team, I remember how proud you were when you won the Quidditch House Cup for Gryffindor." She put her hand on his elbow, then slowly drew her hand back. She looked down at the floor. " Too bad Draco beat you out to Head Boy, though. I bet he only studied his butt off so he could beat you out!"  
  
" Maybe he was smarter then me." Harry said.  
  
She grinned again. "Maybe. Well, I'll talk with you later, Susan Bones seems to be incredibly enthralled in having me tell her about how I broke my hand during Quidditch in sixth year." Her smile faded a bit as she walked away. "See ya."  
  
" See ya." Harry echoed, then glanced down at the brooch again. It sparkled cheerily in the luminous chandelier that hung overhead.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione walked towards the front of the room. " Okay, now that we're all through with eating, I believe, we can begin the dancing." She smiled out at the guests. "Are you ready?"  
  
" Yeah!" A few people shouted out, while others cheered.  
  
Hermione pulled out her wand and then swirled it through the air. A Muggle sound system with huge speakers appeared behind her. She turned around and pressed a few buttons. The machine began to play some slow popular music. Harry led Hermione to the dance floor and they slowly began to dance. But Hermione broke away from Harry just then and said: " Just a sec."  
  
She wandered over to the table that Ginny sat at and then said: "Ginny, why aren't you dancing?"  
  
Ginny shook her head. " I don't feel like dancing much."  
  
Hermione said: " Look around the room. Maybe you'll find yourself a nice-looking guy to dance with."  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Alright, Hermione, I'll look. I won't guarantee that I'll see someone worth dancing with, though." Ginny then stood up and began to walk around, scanning the room for an acceptable- looking man to dance with. She was very cautious now after coming out of an abusive relationship.  
  
Hermione returned to Harry and they began to dance. She leaned forwards and kissed him. " Thanks for waiting." She whispered in his ear. Harry felt his face burn hot as he whispered back:  
  
" My pleasure."  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny sighed and leaned back onto a table, half-sitting on an edge of it. Her red hair was slowly spilling out of the chopsticks that held it and she was feeling out of the mood to go to the bathroom and fix it up. She let out a slow, wavering breath instead, letting the exhaled air blow a strand of red hair around and off her face.  
  
Suddenly, her eyes hooked on someone. He was sitting all alone at a table, his head bowed over his plate. He was picking with his fork at a scrumptious-looking cheesecake, but he didn't look hungry. His eyelashes were long and feather-soft, a very light blonde in color, and his forehead was sprinkled lightly with feathery loose strands of hair. He was propping his head up with his hand, looking rather bored.  
  
She felt a tug in her stomach, as if she was going through a Port Key, and then she allowed herself to approach him.  
  
Ginny stopped right in front of his table and then asked:  
  
" Can I, um . . ."  
  
She looked around the table and saw a stack of napkins. " Have a napkin, please?" She finished and then watched as he looked up, startled. He seemed to vaguely recognize her and he nodded, holding the napkins up and then handing them over to her. She took them from his hands and she picked the pink and blue one from the top. Holding it up to her lips, she dabbed lightly. He watched curiously.  
  
Ginny remained standing there, letting her hand drop from her face, the napkin a crumpled mess in her palm now. She stood awkwardly for a moment or two, then said: "Is anyone sitting here?" She motioned at the seat she was standing at.  
  
He shook his head. He still said nothing.  
  
Ginny's eyebrows raised as she wondered why he was so silent. The only life he seemed to show was the vivid sparkle that was now in his pale grayish-blue eyes. He yawned and then brought a piece of cheesecake to his mouth. Ginny watched hungrily as he ate it slowly, like a cat enjoying its meal very, very carefully.  
  
Ginny took a drink from the glass of water that stood prepared by the plate she sat in front of. She wiped away the imprint of her lipstick with the napkin she still had in her hand.  
  
Finally, she got the guts to ask him what she came for.  
  
" You're the best-looking guy here. Do you want to dance?"  
  
He didn't reply. He looked down at the cheesecake as if it meant the world to him. He debated heavily about something.  
  
' Who is he?' Ginny thought feverishly.  
  
" So you won't dance with me? Is it because you don't know me?" Ginny leaned forwards on the table, her lips pursing lightly, like models do in photographs she saw. Supposedly, boys liked that pouty look.  
  
Draco shook his head.  
  
" Well then!" She took his hand, all the valor she had inside of her creeping out in that one action. Ginny pulled him to his feet. She let her eyes sweep over his body, now that it wasn't hidden behind the table. He was tall, and built, and . . .  
  
Ginny blushed.  
  
He looked away from her face, almost as if something was holding him back.  
  
" It's a slow dance. It's easy to dance to. Come on." She dragged him to the dance floor. He followed her, unable to protest, unable to say anything much at all. Finally, out on the dance floor, he spoke:  
  
" Don't you know who I am?"  
  
Ginny shook her head.  
  
He found this incredibly amusing. " I'll tell you after we dance, then. I don't know if you'll like me much then." His face broke into a smile and Ginny liked the way it looked there, but she disliked how quickly it disappeared again.  
  
" It can't be that bad. Who you are, I mean." Ginny said.  
  
He only shook his head, still amused.  
  
Slowly, they began to dance. He was a very good dancer, but it seemed he hadn't danced in a while. His movement seemed a bit unsure, as if he was remembering how to dance bit by bit. She had to look up to see his face, for he was tall. " Did you go to Hogwarts?" She asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
" How is it that Harry knows you?" Ginny inquired.  
  
" I knew him since first year. Even before, really. We met while having our robes measured." A muscle in his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth at the memory. "He refused my friendship, I believe."  
  
" Oh." Ginny grinned brightly. " Yet you became friends later, since you're here."  
  
He shrugged and then looked down so that his fine eyelashes were covering his eyes again. Ginny felt her heartbeat rising as the dance moves grew faster to the music. The steps changed and the music was now very formal and upbeat. His hand traveled down to her side and the other one rested on her shoulder. She put one hand at his side and the other rested around his shoulder and arm a bit. Her face was warm with embarrassment.  
  
' I don't think he likes me.' She thought, upset. ' Or maybe he's shy.'  
  
Her eyes moved upwards to find him looking at her intensely. He quickly looked down at his feet again, though.  
  
" Do you happen to know Draco Malfoy?" He asked, after a while.  
  
They twirled around a dancing couple beside them, which happened to be Harry and Hermione. Hermione watched as they spun by with great joy. She looked at Harry and winked meaningfully. Harry suddenly realized what Hermione was plotting, or at least some of it.  
  
" I know him a bit." Ginny replied. " He was so mean and nasty to everyone, and he looked like a white string bean." She laughed.  
  
He laughed too, his eyes dancing. " Really?" He asked. " Not a string bean!" He added, horrified. His cheeks were gaining a pink tone.  
  
" Oh, yes, and he'd always be so nasty to Harry!" Ginny continued. " I don't know if he had any friends at all."  
  
" He did."  
  
" Ah. Do you know him?" Ginny asked.  
  
The dance ended abruptly. He pulled away. "Quite well." He said, as they moved back to their table. He stopped as Ginny stopped at the table the Weasleys were sitting at. He looked surprised to see her stop there, and then he said:  
  
" So. . . so you ARE Ginny Weasley, aren't you?"  
  
" Yes." She sat herself down. " Why did you ask so much about Draco, anyway?"  
  
He turned around and said, over his shoulder, as he returned to his seat: " Because he's me."  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione and Harry chatted with Neville nearby.  
  
" What have you been doing, Neville?" Harry asked him. Neville smiled, readying to say what he had been up to, when he squeezed too hard on the banana he was eating. The white fruit spilled over onto his hand. "Ah!" Neville gasped, and Hermione handed him another Kleenex that she had prepared already, knowing this was Neville she was speaking with.  
  
" Sorry." Neville wiped the banana off his hand. " I've been working for the Prophet. I'm 'Dear Nev', the advice columnist." He smiled and then continued after handing Hermione her Kleenex back: " Who'd have thought? I suppose so many people gave me so much advice I'm a walking advice book."  
  
Hermione looked down at the Kleenex in her hand with disgust and then threw it out immediately before it soiled her hands.  
  
" That's great, Neville." She said. " How are you getting paid?"  
  
" Enough to keep a small home." He replied.  
  
" What kind of advice is your favorite?" Harry asked.  
  
" Love advice." Neville's ears burned red. " I've met a lot of girls through my advice column, actually. They always think I'm a sweet guy and things like that."  
  
" Wow! You're doing REAL well, then?" Harry laughed, giving him a wink.  
  
Hermione nudged Harry and then said: "Well, I'll go talk to Ginny, I have something to ask of her." Hermione walked off, and then stopped where Ginny was sitting. Ginny looked genuinely shocked about something.  
  
" Ginny?" Hermione sat down beside her in Ron's seat.  
  
" Oh, Hermione, that's DRACO?" She said through numb lips, her eyes looking towards the man sitting once again alone, sipping at a glass of wine.  
  
" Yes. I told you he isn't a string bean." Hermione said.  
  
" I made such a fool of myself!" Ginny cried out, a tear spilling from her eye.  
  
" No you didn't! He looked perfectly pleased with dancing with you!" Hermione scolded.  
  
" You don't understand! He asked me . . . I didn't know who he was. . . I told him Draco was this string bean that nobody liked. . ." She suddenly stood up. " I can't stay here. I'm so embarrassed!"  
  
" Ginny, he's not even upset! Look at him!" Hermione said.  
  
" Yes he is! Look how depressed he looks!" Ginny replied, motioning at Draco. Draco was now swirling the tip of his finger in the wine, looking so upset that it seemed everyone who'd even stand by him would be sucked into his depressed state.  
  
" That's because Pansy died on this day a year ago. He loved her." Hermione explained.  
  
Ginny burst into tears. "Even worse! I made him feel bad on such a day - - made him dance with me! I'm such an idiot!" She turned and ran from the room and didn't stop running until she was in the side lounge, where there was simply the coat room and a waiting room if someone wanted their party to gather before entering the dining area for some reason.  
  
She collapsed on a leather chair and wept heavily, remembering her previous boyfriend (who's painful bruises still remained on her body). She thought of how she had forced Draco to dance with her on the anniversary of the death of his closest girlfriend, and then to tell him all these nasty things!  
  
' I'm such an idiot! He must hate me!' Ginny whimpered inside her mind.  
  
~*~  
  
Draco looked up just in time to see Ginny flee the room. His first reaction was that perhaps she really needed to use the bathroom. When she didn't return in twenty minutes, he figured she was putting on makeup. Then, when an hour passed and Hermione was pacing around wondering if she should go check on Ginny or leave her to herself, Draco stood and realized something was wrong.  
  
' Maybe I made her mad by not telling her who I am?' Draco though, vaguely. 'Of course she'd be mad! In fact, she practically said I was Harry's worst enemy and all, and I know she was practically in love with him.'  
  
Draco thought about it. He had never liked the Weasleys, and all they stood for. Arthur Weasley was a pathetic Muggle-lover, Molly was an embarrassment, they were all dirt-poor, their kids were pathetic . . . but Ginny was something else. Draco couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt he owed her an apology. He stood to go find her and to apologize to her.  
  
He stopped in front of the waiting room, after walking around peeking into various rooms (but the ladies' room, of course, for Draco was no pervert), and he was shocked to see Ginny crying on the leather couch.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny's head felt heavy and her eyelashes were dotted with tears. She felt a presence in the room and she slowly lifted her head. A dark shape stood in front of her. Her stomach lurched.  
  
It was Draco.  
  
A/N: I will end here and wait to get quite a few reviews before continuing with the events of the night. Harry and Hermione open their gifts, Draco and Ginny . . . ? . . . he, he. Who knows what I will scheme up next! I will also add more characters and what happened to them. So review or else I won't write anymore!  
  
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*V* 


	2. Chapter 2

1 Chapter 2  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.  
  
Oh check out the fan art for Harry Potter that I DREW! Oh please! Tell me in your review if you like it:  
  
http://www.geocities.com/nightshade320/fanart.html  
  
A/N: Thank you for the positive reviews so far! I love getting nice reviews! Though, to tell the truth, I never got a flame on any of my fictions. I suppose people are maybe nice to me since I'm fourteen and all, and a girl.  
  
~*~  
  
Draco immediately said: "I came to apologize . . ."  
  
Ginny spoke simultaneously: " I'm sorry for . . ."  
  
They both stared at each other in stunned silence.  
  
" You mean you're not mad?" They both said at the same time. There was an air of suspense and mystery in the air. Ginny shook her head slowly.  
  
" Why would I be mad!" She exclaimed. " The only person that should be mad is you!" She brought her knees up to her chest, still so childish in actions despite the fact she was legally an adult.  
  
Draco didn't know what to say. " But . . . aren't you angry that I didn't tell you who I was?" Suddenly, he felt very stupid. Why did he come here, if she wasn't mad at him? She was probably upset about something totally different and there was no reason for him to bother her any longer. He shook his head. " Well, never mind then. Sorry to bother you." Draco couldn't explain why he felt angry but he did as he turned and readied to leave. His eyes fell upon a picture Ginny was holding.  
  
It was her and some man holding hands. The young man was holding her very protectively and she seemed uncomfortable, yet happy. He looked back up at Ginny, at the bruises on her arms. With a shrug, he readied to leave out the door.  
  
" Wait." Ginny said.  
  
~*~  
  
  
  
" Time for presents!" Parvati squealed happily, her hands jiggling a little red bag in front of the Potter couple. Harry nodded and said:  
  
" Okay everyone, I'll be opening the gifts now!" He reached down and felt Hermione's gift, in a tiny box in his pocket, and then turned to the table behind Hermione and himself to ready the gifts. There were quite a few. " Goodness, you didn't have to give us anything!" Harry said, softly, and then lifted Parvati and Padme's gift first.  
  
The red bag rustled as he lifted out a tissue-wrapped lump. Hermione helped him pull aside the tissues and then she cried out: " Oh! It's gorgeous!"  
  
Everyone looked at a beautiful carved elephant made of wood with bits of sea shells glued around it in a mosaic. The tusks were made entirely of small shells that were glued one to another. Harry lifted it up and ran his finger across a small gray shell that made the ear of the elephant. " It's so creative!"  
  
" We made it ourselves." Padme said, pleased.  
  
" It'll look great on the mantelpiece of a fireplace, or on some sort of shell with other collectibles." Parvati hinted. " We had one made of a little kitten, too, but the kitten was sort of crooked-looking."  
  
" SO that's what you're doing as jobs now?" Harry asked.  
  
" Yes. We design accessories." Parvati motioned at the purse Padme held. " Our company's called 'Enchanted Trinkets', or just 'ET' in big gold letters on our things."  
  
Hermione laughed. " I have a few of your company's products, then!" She motioned at the bead necklace around her neck. The beads were carved from wood. One of them, in the middle, had 'ET' carved into it.  
  
Harry opened the next gift, which was a giant wooden box. The wrapping paper fell to the ground as he slowly lifted the lid. Inside was a bottle of wine, two very fancy glasses, and very intimate lingerie in it, both for Harry and Hermione. Harry blushed and then said: "Well!"  
  
Hermione grinned broadly as Oliver Wood hooted, in his gentle-voiced accent: "You put that to good use! We wanna see a little Potter tyke!"  
  
Hermione nodded, and then turned to Harry. Harry said: " Don't worry. So do we." Then he put the gift aside, saying: "Thanks! It was certainly creative."  
  
Oliver and the other members of the Gryffindor team cheered. " We put our money together to get it for you." Oliver explained. " The wine's one of the best, trust me."  
  
The gifts slowly disappeared from the gigantic pile off to the side of the table. A handsome wooden clock to hang on the wall, a few envelopes with money, a beautiful set of light blue and bright pink china. . . the gifts were endless, and all of them would come to some use in the rather plain Potter home. The Dursleys would have been jealous of the gifts.  
  
The Dursleys refused to even look at Harry after he turned eighteen and could finally leave their home. Harry didn't mind, really, for he himself was relieved to be freed from the horrible Dursleys.  
  
New sunflower-patterned curtains, a thick book of poetry, a Muggle DVD player with a few Muggle DVDs. Then, just as quickly as they began to open gifts, there were barely any left. Harry paused expectantly before Hermione, taking her trembling cold hand into his.  
  
" Herm." He whispered, softly. She looked up, eyes shimmering with tears as he ran his hand gently through her hair. His hand lifted her gift from his pocket and then he presented it to her. She took it and opened it slowly. It was a golden locket with a picture of her on one side and one of Harry on the other. The locket cost Harry nearly a week's worth of money at work.  
  
Harry was a professional Quidditch player for a professional team. Hermione was his biggest fan, always in the stands, cheering Harry on. Harry watched as Hermione tenderly lifted the locket. A single tear streamed down her face as she whispered: "Oh, Harry . . ."  
  
She threw her arms around him, kissing him warmly.  
  
A few people cheered and clapped, which left the Potter couple both very red in the face. Harry said, after a few seconds passed: " Uh. . ."  
  
Hermione laughed at his expression and then simply said: " Listen, guys." There was a silence in the room as she said: " I had a speech prepared, just for a bit of thanks for the gifts."  
  
" Always so formal!" Lavender laughed.  
  
Hermione looked untouched by the jeer as she yanked a little notecard from her pocket. She lifted it up so it was level with her face and then read, her voice steady: "Ahem! Harry and I have been married for a year already and we have put all the wedding gifts to wonderful use. Now these gifts will come to help us build our relationship."  
  
She stopped. Everyone watched her, waiting.  
  
" That's it." Hermione added. A few people applauded, and then the applause grew louder as more people caught on. Ron ran up to Harry with a champagne bottle in his hand and then exclaimed:  
  
" Harry, you haven't drunk a drop all evening! Designated Floo-powder carrier?" Ron kidded.  
  
Harry shook his head. " I had some wine."  
  
Ron grinned and then popped the cork out of the champagne. It flew up and struck the chandelier, and the entire thing wobbled dangerously before steadying. "Ron!" Molly Weasley cried out, exasperated.  
  
" Sorry, mum." Ron rolled his eyes and then plunked a little champagne bottle on the corner of the table laden with gifts. Harry watched him pour it to the top with champagne and then he took it in his hand.  
  
" To the Potters!" Ron lifted his own glass.  
  
" To the Potters!"  
  
The sound of glasses clinking in cheers filled the room.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry and Ron sat down at a table not far off from the table with gifts for Harry wanted to keep an eye on the entire room (for the table was in the very front, after all). Ron looked around and then asked: "Where's Ginny?"  
  
" I don't know. Hermione said she went out for a while." Harry said. " Herm is all worried up about it."  
  
" Maybe Ginny's sick." Ron looked alarmed. He lowered his glass and the champagne inside, shimmering with bubbles, bobbed up and down in a wave.  
  
" Don't spill it." Harry warned, then replied to Ron's alarmed remark: " I'm sure Ginny's fine. You know how the girls are. Probably combing her hair down or something."  
  
" Ginny's not like that." Ron replied, bobbing his glass up and down again.  
  
" Don't. . ." Harry sighed and didn't finish his warning.  
  
" I mean, sure, she likes to look nice and all, but she doesn't take forever in front of the mirror. Bloody hell!" Ron cried out, as he spilled a gob of champagne onto the tablecloth.  
  
" Told you to watch out." Harry stood up to sop the water up with a napkin. The napkin quickly grew heavy and he said: " Do you have any more napkins on you?"  
  
Ron shook his head.  
  
Harry remembered how he had brought in a whole stack of napkins. He went over to his own table and then grasped a handful of napkins, then stopped. 'Where's Draco off to?' Harry wondered. Suddenly, his heart fell. Ginny was gone, and so was Draco. What if he took her off, being the Draco Harry knew, and was trying to do something to her?  
  
Harry bristled angrily and then looked around the room to see if Draco wasn't simply standing around sulking in the corner somewhere. But no, Draco was nowhere to be seen. Crabbe and Goyle, meanwhile, seemed to be everywhere. With each step they took some sort of misfortune followed, worse then Neville Longbottom, even.  
  
Crabbe was at the moment busy with tying his shoes, which was going rather poorly for him. Goyle had just stepped on the back of Lee Jordan's shoe and Lee Jordan was having a near fit at the horridly smashed back of his very handsome loafers. Lee Jordan had gone on to being a regular sports announcer for the big-leagues, the World Quidditch Games.  
  
Harry took a nervous glance at the doorway of the room, hoping to see Ginny walk in any moment, but she wasn't coming in.  
  
Harry returned to Ron's table and then said, his voice low, trying to keep his cool despite how visibly bothered he was: " Draco's gone, too."  
  
Ron took the napkins from Harry's hand and then patted the tablecloth dry. Suddenly, Ron realized the meaning of Harry's words. Ron's eyes flew open wide in shock. "You don't think . . .?"  
  
" That's exactly what I think!" Harry said.  
  
" It would make sense." Ron stood up, shaking his head. " We gotta get him."  
  
~*~  
  
"Wait."  
  
Did she really say that?  
  
Draco turned around, his eyes quizzically scanning Ginny. She had put her legs down so that they weren't up to her chest. She leaned forwards, tucking the picture of her old boyfriend into her pocket, and seeing that he had turned around, she said:  
  
" I don't want to be alone."  
  
Draco shrugged. " Come back to the party with me."  
  
Ginny shook her head. " I can't." She looked down at the leather couch with a bit of a distaste. " Though I don't want to sit in this vomity chair, either." Her fingernails plucked at the loose strings that stuck out from every fold and stitch of the armrest.  
  
" Why can't you go back?" Draco was puzzled. He leaned back onto the doorframe, his body a dark shape against the light that was shining into the room from the hallway. The room was rather dark in itself for it was really only a hatcheck and didn't need to be lighted.  
  
Ginny didn't know what she meant by it, either. " I just . . ." She shook her head again. " I just can't."  
  
Draco wanted to get out of this room really quickly, to go back and drink some more champagne or wine, to drink some more of anything. He just felt like boozing a bit, and then going home to the empty Malfoy mansion to collapse on his bed and sleep the drinking off. Life didn't quite matter lately, and he felt that just being around crying women was enough to drive him straight to St. Mungo's mental institution.  
  
" Sit down, why don't you?" Ginny motioned feebly at a chair across the room, which wasn't quite far. Draco figured he could take two big steps and be across the room, no problem.  
  
" I like standing." He said.  
  
What he really liked was being close to the doorway so he wouldn't get too cozy in this stupid room. What did she want from him? Wasn't it enough that he came to apologize to her, a Malfoy, to a Weasley?  
  
" What, do you have leg cramps or something?" She asked, looking ready to laugh if only Draco would acknowledge the joke as well.  
  
Draco didn't think it would be dignified to answer.  
  
" So you really are him, huh." Ginny cocked her head to the side. She looked so innocent, like a little girl marveling at some sort of extravagant peacock through the glass walls of a zoo, tapping at the glass, making the peacock go nuts in fright inside. And the whole time the girl thinks the peacock's having a blast, watching the girl tap her finger numb on the glass.  
  
" The real Draco Malfoy." She seemed very amused with that. " Everyone always said you were so mean, but you're kind of quiet."  
  
" Sometimes it's best to be silent and appear a fool then to speak and prove it." Draco spoke, smoothly, as always.  
  
She looked at him with an even greater curiosity. " You act like some sort of prince. You know that, don't you?" Her face broke into a smile suddenly, for the first time, and the tears in her eyes danced and one flowed out from the corner of her eye.  
  
" Hey. Stop crying, will you?" Draco said.  
  
" I'm s – sorry. I can't h - help it." She began to laugh while she let loose another tear, for her eyes were still full of tears after all, the same as a person that just yawned really, really heavily. " You're so f – funny!"  
  
" What?" He was taken aback.  
  
" You are!" She burst out.  
  
" How!" He demanded. He had taken a step forwards into the room, his body loosening up a little and then tightening again, a cat constantly on the watch. He leaned onto the doorframe again.  
  
" I don't know! You're just so poised, and high and mighty, the tall, dark and handsome kind of guy that sits in a bar, always, not talking to anyone, thinking that everyone else but he doesn't know their ass from their elbow." She laughed harder. "Well, you're not dark . . . but tall and handsome, anyhow."  
  
Draco didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or as an insult. After all, she made him sound like a snob – but at the same time she also said he was handsome. Draco decided to take it safe and not reply.  
  
" Here, I'm telling you, sit down. We can talk for a little, maybe?" Ginny looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Nobody's made me laugh like that in days."  
  
" Good to know you find me so amusing." He murmured.  
  
" Don't be cross!" She exclaimed.  
  
" I'm not." He replied. He walked over to sit down on the wicker chair in front of the leather couch. His back hurt from the wicker the moment he sat down but he figured that Ginny wouldn't leave him alone until he sat down, anyway.  
  
" You look cross." She inquired.  
  
" Not unless you want me to be." He shot back.  
  
Ginny smiled again. " No, I'd rather talk to someone that isn't cross." She smoothed the creases of her dainty little dress out on her knees, and then added: " You're not like how I imagined you."  
  
" Well, it's hard to imagine a person from secondary sources." Draco said. He looked down at his fingernails suddenly, trying to avoid looking at Ginny. For some reason, she reminded her of the cheerful and happy Pansy that he had come to know as they had dated. Pansy wasn't good-looking, he knew that, but he didn't CARE. People assumed that someone like him would want a supermodel or something, but he didn't want that at all. Nobody cared to know what he truly wanted, what he truly thought. They just assumed.  
  
His mind flashed images of Pansy. There she was, across the street, waving to him. Suddenly, that image of a speeding red car, one of those Mustangs – a red one – ripping down the street, towards her. He could see that flash of bright blue and green sun dress, a shriek, and then everything was a tearful blur as a horrible mass of sirens and ambulance wails filled his ears, so loud he could still feel the shivers they sent down his spine.  
  
*Pansies fade, pansies wither  
  
*come winter again  
  
*Come the time to pay the tither  
  
*when winter comes again  
  
That old poem that he once saw in a poem book . . . it was just before winter when it happened, when the thing to Pansy happened. Pansies fade, pansies wither. . . Pansy had pretty much done just that on her white little hospital bed. There was Draco sitting by her hospital bed, surrounded by idiot Muggles, going this way and that, treating her with their useless Muggle medicine. Draco couldn't just zap her with a spell or anything, especially not in the Muggle hospital. St. Anne's, they called it. Poor Pansy, Draco thought. She was too far away from life, on the merger of life and death.  
  
And the tither – well, it was an old poem from the middle ages, where the tither would collect taxes in the late fall. So, when winter comes again . . .  
  
Now Draco knew that every winter he'd see Pansy's face as she practically faded away in front of him, the inevitable forces of life and death pulling her away from him. It was almost too much for him to think about.  
  
" What are you thinking about?" Ginny interrupted his thoughts.  
  
Draco hadn't realized he'd been silent for so long. He looked up at her, then quickly looked away so she wouldn't see the tears in his eyes. And yet, his tears reflected the light streaming in from the hallway.  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione looked around nervously. Ginny's been gone way too long and Hermione knew she ought to go convince her to come back to the party. She stopped suddenly, thinking: 'Maybe I ought to send Draco to her?'.  
  
She looked around, but he was gone.  
  
Hermione suddenly felt very relieved. Draco must have gone to see Ginny on his own! She grinned and decided to leave them be, then, for she trusted Draco in some odd way, which she found bizarre. Sometimes women and girls had this sense of trust where they would know right off that someone could be trusted.  
  
" Hermione!" Someone said from behind her.  
  
She turned and then smiled to see Professor McGonagall. Harry had invited the teachers from school to see them. Dumbledore was unable to make it, of course, for he was off on a very important trip to Denmark, and it was hush-hush right now but Harry suspected that Dumbledore had a new problem on his hands, something to do with a new teacher.  
  
" Oh, Professor McGonagall! How good to see you!" Hermione said, smiling.  
  
" Don't be silly, we see each other every day, nearly." Professor McGonagall said. Hermione had been the new instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts now, but since she and Harry were still getting used to their new home and organizing it, Hermione taught class on odd days. She would transport herself by Floo Powder back home on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays (the latter two were for religious days). Hermione was very happy with her job. The other teacher – that taught Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, was none other then Sirius Black. Sirius had for long now been cleared off from the evil associated with his name.  
  
" How's Sirius doing? He'd been really ill and I hadn't seen him for a while." Hermione asked. In fact, Sirius hadn't come to the party for he was that ill.  
  
" Oh, you know how exciting he likes to be. He pops from his skin to make hands-on projects in school. In doing so, he made a bit of an error with a Dark Arts spell and is now under constant watch by Madame Pomfrey." Professor McGonagall chuckled under her breath.  
  
" Sounds serious." Hermione admitted. " What's wrong with him?"  
  
" Well, he tried to show how to deflect an Illumni spell, which is basically. . ."  
  
" Illumni. I know what it does. It makes the body glow to Dark Forces, and only to Dark Forces. Sometimes people don't even know they have it on, like that girl – Sally? The one in the Daily Prophet?"  
  
" Yes, that's the spell." Professor McGonagall shook her head. " He made a bit of an error, I don't remember what it was – and now his entire body is glowing. Little lights, like flashlights, poke out from every pore in his skin."  
  
" Goodness!" Hermione exclaimed. "How is Madame Pomfrey going to cure him?" Her hand shot up to the side of her face in an expression of utter worry.  
  
" Don't you worry! Madame Pomfrey has to put a spell to heal the flashlight-effect for about every square inch of skin on his body. It ought to take a week or so. It's because so many pores are inflamed." Professor McGonagall shook her head.  
  
" My, my." Hermione laughed. " Defense Against the Dark Arts got even more complicated, hadn't it, since new Dark Arts material is discovered all the time."  
  
" Just like Muggles with that DNA research bit." Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. " Magic could save them years of work! Think about it."  
  
" I know!" Hermione rolled her eyes as well. " I only wish we could help them out without, well, revealing that we're helping them."  
  
" It's best to leave Muggles be." Professor McGonagall admitted. " Oh, I must get going, I promised to meet someone in an hour."  
  
" You're leaving early, then?" Hermione asked.  
  
" Indeed." Professor McGonagall put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. " You were always a good student. One of my favorites, Mrs. Potter, and Harry was also a favorite. I can't stress enough about how happy I am to see you two together." She added: " By the way, is Mr. Ronald Weasley romantically involved . . .?"  
  
" There's a girl, Virginia Coolick. She is his partner in the broomstick store Ron's handling." Hermione said.  
  
" Oh! Have you met her?" Professor McGonagall asked.  
  
" I have. She's very pleasant. She's three years his senior, but the sweetest girl you'll ever meet. Positively admirable, in words and actions, a real angel." Hermione paused to add: " Though Ron had been going with Lavender, on and off, for a few years now. Virginia might only be something for Ron to contend with in between the periods in which he's with Lavender."  
  
" That Lavender. She's a bit of a coquette, in my opinion." Professor McGonagall frowned. " No matter, I really am running late. You will excuse me, won't you, dear?" She gave Hermione a stiff smile.  
  
" Sure." Hermione smiled back. " Thank you for coming!"  
  
" All my pleasure." Professor McGonagall walked to the back of the room, where a fireplace was crackling. Harry had insisted to rent a room with a fireplace. She tossed a bit of Floo powder inside and was gone.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry and Ron both sat talking nervously now at their table. " Maybe we could be wrong, of course. Maybe Draco stepped out for a cigarette or something." Ron said, slowly.  
  
" I haven't known him to smoke. He wouldn't touch them since they're Muggle things." Harry said. A few of the witches and wizards Harry knew had begun to smoke Muggle cigarettes. Harry didn't smoke and he refused to try it for he knew the things it did to people – the way the lungs would blacken, become sickly wheezing things slowly dying from the inside.  
  
" He could be in the men's room." Ron suggested.  
  
" Should we go check? It would feel stupid to blame him outright." Harry said.  
  
" I guess we ought to check." Ron murmured. " Hope he doesn't take us wrong if we poke around looking for him in the bathroom." Ron stood up, taking another sip of champagne before banging the wineglass down again. " Let's go."  
  
The room rushed by them as the two walked out into the hallway. They stopped. "Where's the bathroom, anyhow?" Ron asked.  
  
" I think that it's to the left." Harry tried to recall to himself which way he was to go. " Yeah, I remember passing that little plaque with the little guy drawn on it." Harry turned left and Ron followed closely behind. Harry turned his head and asked: "So, how's it going with Virginia Coolick, anyhow?"  
  
Ron smiled. " Virginia's alright." He put his hands into his pockets and then drew something out from his left one. He showed a wizard-picture to Harry. " That's us, last week, at the Annual Witch Carnival."  
  
Harry looked at it and grinned. " She looks so happy, Ron."  
  
" I know." Ron replied. " I'm ecstatic in the picture, too. Look at me." Harry did. Ron was grinning from ear to ear. His hand was around Virginia's shoulders. Virginia was a girl of average height, about six inches shorter then the 6 foot 1 inch Ron. Her hair was short and a very dark brown with reddish highlights twisted into it. Her face was kind and very round, her eyes framed with dark eyelashes, and the irises of her eyes were black as oil drops. She had a few freckles from the summer that had come to pass. She was rather pudgy but it made her look warmer and kinder, and nothing else.  
  
" Why didn't you bring her along?" Harry asked.  
  
" She's visiting her parents up in Greenwich." Ron explained.  
  
" Oh! Is something wrong with them?" Harry and Ron were now walking by the kitchen rooms. Thick grayish smoke piled from the swinging doors, which were on two-way hinges and had no doorknobs or any lock on them for people kept exploding from inside with armfuls of trays. It smelled fabulous.  
  
" Nope. Just a regular visit, since she says she likes to keep in update with them. You know how it is, when your folks get older." Ron suddenly stopped, realizing what he just said. " I'm sorry, Harry, I oughtn't have said that . . ."  
  
" It's alright. It barely frazzles me to be reminded of my parent's death." Harry replied. They continued walking.  
  
" Anyhow, ol' Virginia's great." Ron said, wistfully. " I always find it fun to talk to her. Criminey, does she talk a lot, though! I suppose that's one of her faults."  
  
" To tell the truth, I think most girls talk a lot." Harry said. Images of the talkative Lavender, Parvati, Padme, and even Ginny filled Harry's mind. They stopped in front of the men's room.  
  
The door had a little white plaque with the black shape of a man on it. Harry opened the door and stepped in.  
  
(A/N: Since I have NEVER, ever rightfully even seen a men's room I will spare any description. All I know is that it differs from that of a woman's room).  
  
Harry stopped by a sink and then leaned on it, looking around. " I don't think anyone's here. Draco?"  
  
Nobody replied. Harry shrugged and then turned back to Ron. " Let's go see if he's outside. If not, well, we know what to expect."  
  
Ron nodded. " That little punk." He murmured. " If he even touches Ginny against her will . . ." Ron punched a fist into the wall to prove his point, then recoiled. "OW!"  
  
~*~  
  
" What's wrong?" Ginny exclaimed, seeing how Draco looked so near tears. "Did I hurt your feelings?"  
  
" Of course not! And if you did, I wouldn't go and sob my eyes out about it." Draco snapped. She looked at him angrily.  
  
" Don't be so snappy." She scolded. " I'm just being concerned . . ."  
  
" Well, if you must know, I'm reminiscing." Draco said. " About the past, mostly, things that could have been. I haven't had the happiest life recently, you know."  
  
" I'm sorry." Ginny said.  
  
Draco shifted. The wicker chair was really annoying him all of a sudden. " Hell, it feels like I'm sitting in a basket or something." He winced as the wicker chair handle poked heavily into his back.  
  
Ginny laughed.  
  
Draco looked up at her. He had never thought of himself as funny. Sarcastic, yes, depressed, yes, ironic, yes, but not humorous. His eyes narrowed. " I might as well ask about your problems now. Why were you crying, anyway?"  
  
" It's a long story." Ginny said, tucking her legs up to her chest again, in a childish position, as if seeking for a hug or some affection of that sort, some bodily warmth next to her.  
  
Draco sighed. He figured he hadn't anywhere better to be – sitting at a table, drinking? He might as well listen to her.  
  
Ginny misinterpreted the way he leaned back and sighed as a sign of getting ready for the long story. "You're so sweet, to listen to me. Nobody listens, they just told me not to talk about it, since it would make me feel bad." She turned red. " I mean, you know, anyone who listens is sweet."  
  
" Yeah, just talk." Draco didn't feel like listening to the small talk. He wanted to real thing. His head bumped the back of the wicker chair as he listened intently. " Well?"  
  
" You see, I met this really nice guy. His name was Jason. He was really protective of me, and some people would tell me that's a warning sign that the guy's going to be trouble, but I didn't pay attention then." Ginny began.  
  
Draco nodded to keep her going, and to reassure that he was paying attention and not dozing off.  
  
" Jason was really with . . . with advancing in our relationship." Ginny's voice grew tight with tears. " He wanted me to do things." She stopped suddenly.  
  
Draco knew what she meant quite well and he said: " You should have said no. Girls with no will power are no fun." He moved himself around in the wicker chair so he was sitting on the armrest instead. The stupid chair was impossible to be comfortable in unless someone was strapped with pillows.  
  
" I couldn't. He'd hit me." She choked out. She was ready to cry again.  
  
" Hey. Stop." Draco said, instantly. Watching her cry would make him go nuts, it really would. He didn't like it when girls cried, he felt like he didn't know what to do. Comforting them felt like being dishonorable to Pansy, and not comforting them felt like he was some sort of cold-hearted creep.  
  
" I'm sorry." Ginny said. Finally, she continued, after swallowing down a few tearful sobs: " He'd hit me for anything, soon enough. And Jason kept telling me if I told anyone – he'd hit me again."  
  
" It's only a threat. He wouldn't have." Draco said.  
  
" I don't know." Ginny sighed. " All I know is, one day, Fred, George, Harry, and Ron walked in on him as he was hitting me. He slapped me so hard I . . . I fell to the ground, and I was bleeding, and . . ." She shook suddenly and another tear slipped from her eye.  
  
Draco stood up. He didn't know what to do. " Hey, stop, stop! Don't cry so loud, for Wizard's sake. What if someone hears? They'll think I'm doing something . . . hey, hey!" He cried out, for she suddenly wrapped her arms around his middle and was sobbing into his stomach.  
  
" I'm sorry! I'll get you in trouble . . ." She hugged him tighter, and then said: "Thanks for listening." She wiped her eyes and then let go of him. Draco felt numb with shock.  
  
" Well – uh – you're welcome." Suddenly, he felt he ought to tell her about Pansy, as well. He hadn't told anyone about his feelings, much. Ever since Pansy had died, he locked himself away from his parents (from his father especially), from his few friends, and generally from everyone else. " Hey, how about I tell you something. I won't tell what you said if you won't tell what I said."  
  
She looked at him. " I . . . I guess."  
  
He looked back at the wicker chair. He didn't want to suffer the torture of that stupid chair, so he plopped himself down on the leather couch, a good two feet away from where Ginny sat. " Listen, then. I haven't told anyone, so you damn better know that you gotta keep it to yourself. Got it?"  
  
Ginny nodded. " Why are you telling me, then?"  
  
" Because . . . well, we've both been through things, right?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
" And you told me about your worries. It seems fair if I told you my sob story, right?" Draco watched her nod again. He sighed again and then leaned back on the leather couch, his body melting into the soft black folds of the leather. He felt relaxed, his mind focused, and for the first time in a year, he felt ready to talk. " I was dating Pansy for a long time, you know. Ever since when I was in the middle of my sixteenth year." Draco stopped and then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and then passed it to Ginny. " Hey, wipe your nose, will you?"  
  
She laughed, shaking her head, and then took the handkerchief. Her fingers traced the stitched 'DM' on it. Then, she pressed it to her nose, and spoke, muffled by the material: " I'm guessing you won't want it back?"  
  
" Nope." Draco smiled. It felt like ages since he last smiled, for real. " You see, Pansy was great for me. She seemed to listen. I always needed someone to listen, you know. People always like to label. I was so used to being labeled evil and mean, because of my family name, that by the time I got to Hogwarts that's what I lived up to. And I guess I still do."  
  
" That's kind of sad." Ginny said.  
  
" Yeah, well, I'm not looking for pity or anything, so don't." He propped his head up on his hand, his elbow resting on the armrest. " Pansy and I – we were engaged. We were going to be married this summer. She and I made a date on the day of Potter's wedding. I was going to go, I even sent an RSVP and all that good crap." Draco let out a wavering breath. " I was walking – and saw her just standing there across the street, waving to me, laughing."  
  
Ginny nodded slowly, her stomach lurching, knowing what to expect to come up next. Draco looked at her and said: " She was like you, in a way." His voice cracked. "At least, around me. She was always so damn happy, and you couldn't peel the smile off her face with a crowbar. Well, maybe not like you at the MOMENT . . ." Draco looked at Ginny, her eyes horribly puffy from crying, her face twisted in a frown, trails of tears on her face.  
  
She grinned.  
  
" Let me guess, I'm funny." Draco leaned his head back, resting it on the top of the couch, examining the pattern of tiles on the ceiling. " There she was, I can see it, practically. Her blue and green sundress flapping in the sun. She always walked fast, and when she saw me, she just dashed out onto the Muggle street. Some idiot that knew about as much about driving as I do was just speeding his brains out on the road. I don't even know how to explain it – suddenly, I just felt so sick, and there was this awful thump sound, and she was tossed to the curb . . ."  
  
" Oh!" Ginny let out her breath quickly and sharply, as if she had just seen or heard something so horrible and unspeakable that it could only be expressed in that half-breath.  
  
" They came to take her away, in those little white things, ambulances, with the noisy flashing lights. They took me, the police, and drove me to the hospital. I was so out of it, it was as if I was the one hit by the car or something." Draco stopped, his voice crackling again. He didn't know if he ought to continue. Malfoys don't tell people their feelings – and especially not to Weasleys. But it felt so right!  
  
" I'm so sorry." Ginny whispered.  
  
Draco looked at her, suddenly, for the first time really looking into her eyes, ready to talk eye-to-eye, instead of cowering. He figured it was only his own choice, his own mistake, if he told a Weasley his problems. " They put her in this hospital bed – God, she looked dead already – all white-covered, the room white, like some sort of miniature Heaven." Draco felt a shiver go down his spine as he relived the memory. " I went up to her bed, they let me see her, just in case - - well, you know. She was still conscious, but bleeding so bad, and she took my hand and squeezed it, and said 'I love you'. Then her hand felt so limp and cold, and they wheeled her away. Just wheeled her away, damn it." Draco was breathing heavily, his chest going up and down in anger.  
  
Ginny sighed. "That's terrible."  
  
" I never - - got to talk to her again." Draco stopped there. " That's basically it. The end of my life, there."  
  
" You can't say that. You have to be able to move on, you know."  
  
Draco couldn't even explain it, but suddenly he let out all the tears he had never allowed himself to truly shed. All the Malfoy pride and honor for years held and pampered was released.  
  
And then, suddenly, Ginny kissed him, probably to comfort him, but it still came to him as a freezing-cold shock.  
  
And the next shock – two dark shapes in the doorway.  
  
~*~  
  
Ron and Harry, a little while back, were running down the hall. Ron paused, his hair messily scattered on his forehead. " I can't - - let's just peek into the doors of the rooms or something, okay? I can't run for shit."  
  
Harry nodded. He disliked profanity but it seemed Ron had grown fond of it over the years. Harry looked to the right of the hallway. " You hear that?" He said, all of a sudden.  
  
" It sounds like a girl crying." Ron exclaimed.  
  
" You don't think . . .?" Harry asked, in horror. They both slowly began to creep down the hall. If Draco was doing some sort of dirty, unearthly thing to Ginny, they might as well nab him when he didn't expect them. They waited a few minutes before the doorway, hesitating. What if it was someone else in there and something different was going on? How embarrassing would that be, then!  
  
Harry thought about Hermione just then. If Draco would attack him, and kill him, he wondered if Hermione would know he loved her more then anything. Harry shook the thought from his head. That wouldn't happen, in the first place, and in the second place, Hermione of course knew of Harry's affection. Harry told her about a million times a day, and then some.  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged glances and then ran into the doorway of the room. There was Draco, and Ginny and he were kissing. Ginny's face was streaked with tears.  
  
" You . . ." Ron screeched, adding a very, very mean profanity at the end that happened to start with 'B' and had 7 letters in it.  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: I end here, once again, because I can't type fast enough. Yeah, that's it. No, actually, I want reviews. And there will be more, whether I get reviews or not, no worries.  
  
But I would really appreciate reviews. What do you think? In character (at least in accordance to plot)? Good story line? Alright spelling/grammar? Please say something at least.  
  
P.S. I am forever grateful to those who reviewed so far.  
  
(Gary Skinner you read pretty much all my fiction, almost, so I am really grateful for your kind words, which not once said anything mean. I really, really appreciate it)! 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else J. K. Rowling had produced.  
  
A/N: Ah! Thank you for all the reviews! Sorry for all the D/G, Gary Skinner, I can tell you weren't too fond of it. I'm glad you are warming up to it. I guess I'm one of those people that trust Draco isn't evil and will redeem himself. * shrug* . Mike - hey thanks for those reviews, I'm glad you decided to read what I write. See, I don't `suck'. Thank you everyone else for the reviews, too! I love getting reviews, it makes me feel appreciated!  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Hermione grinned broadly as Padma (A/N: ha! I got it right. Sorry. I'm no good with details) and Parvati put down a very cute chocolate cupcake in front of her. It had a little white candle in it, lit happily, and the letter H was on one side of the candle and another H on the other side. Hermione's eyes widened as she said:  
  
" Oh, I couldn't! This is - what - a million calories?"  
  
" It doesn't hurt." Parvati teased. " Now that Harry's not around I thought we'd get some girl talk done."  
  
Hermione fiddled around with the very cold handle of the knife blade in front of her as she cut the cupcake in two. " I gotta save some for Harry. I'd feel bad if I wouldn't." She explained, lopping the cupcake a bit unevenly. The candle tipped over and just before it could burn a hole in the tablecloth Fred Weasley caught it.  
  
" Where'd you come from?" Parvati asked.  
  
Fred patted her head like a little kid's. " Don't you worry." Then he turned to Hermione, hands in his pockets. " Eating cake, I see."  
  
" You didn't!" Hermione cried out.  
  
" No, it's okay, I didn't add anything into your little cupcake." Fred plopped himself down at a chair by a nearby table, but still facing them. " So, what's the occasion? Why won't you wait for Harry?"  
  
" He went out with Ron somewhere." Hermione said. " Really, everyone's wandering around the whole place. Everywhere but where they ought to be, if you ask me." She put her spoon into the cake. It was very sweet and spongy.  
  
" Alright, enough of that." Padma cried out. " Tell us, how's it like, being married?"  
  
Hermione shrugged. " It's like being single, only you have someone to share it with." She shook her head. " I know it makes no sense. I just can't explain it."  
  
" How's Harry?" Parvati questioned. " Is he the do-the-dishes and take out the garbage guy, or does he sit around on the couch all the time?" The two Patil ladies looked at her with wide eyes, waiting on a cliff for the answer.  
  
" I guess he can be a bit of both." Hermione admitted, eating a spoonful of cake. "I don't think he's ever deliberately avoided house work or anything, though. It's split about 50/50 between us."  
  
" Mmm." Padma didn't seem to care much about that. " Where'd you spend your honeymoon?" She asked abruptly.  
  
" In the center of the Earth, visiting the Mole People." Fred joked, and seeing Padma's angry glare, he raised his hands up and added: "Sorry, sorry. Talk about looks that kill." He laughed again and stood up, heading towards George. George was having a great time trying to converse with Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
" Seriously - we spent it abroad." Hermione said. " We visited Italy, and then took a Muggle tour around the various attractions scattered all around the place. The Leaning Tower of Pisa was great! I bought millions of postcards. I guess our owls will be busy now, with all the extra post cards we have."  
  
" Yeah, I guess." Parvati poked at the tablecloth.  
  
" Oh! I couldn't help but overhear your conversation!" Lavender cried out, plopping herself down beside Hermione.  
  
" Is there a conversation that she won't overhear?" George asked.  
  
" You guys!" Padma cried out. " Stop - and I mean stop - bugging into our conversation!" She turned to Parvati. "Just like in Hogwarts. I swear, they didn't change at all."  
  
" Maybe none of us did, really." Hermione said, softly.  
  
" Maybe." Padma didn't sound too interested in philosophical thought. "Hey, did Harry get you a lot of cute outfits? I do believe that a lush cricket green will be great on you."  
  
" Thanks." Hermione didn't know if she ought to say thanks to a remark like that or not, but she said it anyway. " Actually, Harry and I don't really want to invest too much in nice clothing. . ."  
  
" What? Why?" Parvati and Padme both cried out. Being fashion majors in the wizard world, they couldn't possibly understand that.  
  
" Are you poor or something?" Lavender asked. " I mean - with Harry playing for professional Quidditch teams . . ."  
  
Hermione shook her head. " Harry donates a lot of money. To wizard orphanages, and such. He also gave a lot of money to support the building of a new wizard school. Dumbledore is all for this project."  
  
Padme didn't sound too pleased at all as she said: "How sweet of you two."  
  
She and Parvati exchanged looks.  
  
" Will you excuse me for a minute?" Hermione said, softly, standing up.  
  
" Sure!" The Patils exclaimed. Hermione gave them a vague grin and then slowly moved away from the table. Hermione felt rather out of place with these girls. She felt a bit more comfortable with Ginny, since Ginny wasn't all about looking beautiful on the outside and being rich.  
  
Hermione stopped to see if Harry, Ron, Draco, or Ginny was anywhere in the room. She felt that they'd take out the large anniversary cake out, and if they weren't anywhere near, they'd miss the cake. And she'd certainly be cross a bit with Harry if he didn't come for the cake! After all, Hermione did make the cake herself (after two that came out rather horribly messed up). Hermione had never been the greatest in cooking, though she always tried very hard. Some people are simply born good cooks, like grandmothers and such. Hermione was not one of these privileged ones, so she had to learn everything from the ratty cookbook Molly Weasley borrowed her, and from the cooking shows that came in on the fuzzy television.  
  
//\\Flashback//\\  
  
~*~  
  
She remembered how she and Harry had first moved into their house. It had been right after their honeymoon. They hadn't seen their house before then, even (except, of course, for when they checked it out and agreed to buy it). Ron and the other Weasleys had said that they'll fix it up for them, and that was exactly what they did.  
  
Hermione recalled dragging her suitcase into the living room of their home and then dropping it down with a sorrowful thud. Harry walked in after her, with two suitcases, and he said:  
  
" Wow! So we're really here, huh?"  
  
" All ours." Hermione said, joyfully, turning to look at Harry to see if he was as delighted as she were. He was simply radiating.  
  
" I suppose we'll start with the bedroom?" Harry asked.  
  
She punched him in the arm lightly.  
  
" I meant to decorate it!" He grimaced, rubbing his arm, and then turned to glance down the narrow hallway with the furry red carpet with the floral pattern (Molly Weasley-style) and there stood the kitchen. It had a Muggle stove inside of it that the Weasleys charmed a bit to have it cook, bake, and broil food abnormally fast - five to six minutes, at most. In the corner of the room was a stylish refrigerator that was all-white, blending with the white walls, the bland white curtains, the white throw rug, and the white-painted cabinets.  
  
A note flapped in the breeze, stuck square in the middle of one of the cabinets. Harry walked up to it and ripped it off gently, reading it: `Sorry about all the white. The house came like this. - Fred and George'. Fred and George were the ones that helped tile the floor in the kitchen - white with little white flowers in two of the four corners, which Ginny picked.  
  
" It looks like a hospital room." Harry complained.  
  
" It'll do." Hermione came in to the room, thumping a cardboard box filled with kitchen supplies (gifts from their wedding) onto a white marble counter. She grasped a dry sponge from the top and then stuck it under the chrome faucet of the sink, moistening it. She began to wipe the counter free of dust and grime that had settled.  
  
" So, what do I do?" Harry asked.  
  
" I don't know." She put her hands on her hips, thinking. " Maybe - well - let's see." Her eyes grew thin, like little slits, as she pondered it. " Scrub the bathroom clean. I'm not sitting on that toilet seat."  
  
" The bathroom!" Harry leaned back onto the counter.  
  
Hermione gave him an icy glare. " Would you enjoy scrubbing the kitchen? I'm sure there's enough cigarette butts tucked into every corner, from that smoker that had this house, to last you a lifetime of lung cancer."  
  
He laughed. " I'll stick with the bathroom, then." He bent down to pick out some cleaning supplies, then said: " Must we do this the Muggle way?"  
  
" Yes. The neighbors can be over any second. Ginny said they're awful curious - even peeping toms, or something." Hermione dumped a half-empty spray bottle of Windex onto the counter. " If they come by and see the bathroom scrubbing itself, the sponges charmed, who knows what they'll think?"  
  
" The neighbors are always an authority." Harry said. " I remember back at the Dursleys - they worried constantly - what will the neighbors say? What'll anyone say if they learned that Harry's a wizard?"  
  
Hermione smiled. " Well, that's life."  
  
She took an eager swipe at the counter and then lifted the sponge. " Look! Look at all this dust! My parents kept the house clean all the time. If my mom were to see this - she'd scream."  
  
" She's a dentist." Harry said, as if it would explain. " They need to keep clean."  
  
" Same with my father." Hermione brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. " Well? Isn't SOMEONE supposed to clean the bathroom?"  
  
Harry grinned at her. " I wonder who?" He said, sarcastically, and then went to the room next door, which happened to be the bathroom. He knelt down in front of the white toilet and then stared at it. The bowl had yellowed in a few places where it hadn't been washed properly. The toilet seat was black and the dye left black imprints and streaks in a few places.  
  
" We're getting some new things - a new toilet seat, for instance." Harry called out.  
  
" Would you?"  
  
" I said we're. You and me." Harry replied. " I'd rather be seen holding a toilet seat in my hands with you beside me then alone."  
  
" Oh, come on!" Hermione laughed.  
  
Later that evening, after most of the house was cleaned up, mopped up, and shined to a polish, the doorbell had rung. It was Mr. and Mrs. Granger, over to see how everything was going. Hermione had attempted to bake a Brown Betty that evening to greet them with it but when it came out it seemed more like a Black Betty. Not to mention all the smoke . . . Hermione was just not used to using the super-speedy oven.  
  
//\\end flashback//\\  
  
Hermione grinned now. Harry and Hermione had both gone a long way since then. With lots of support and with plenty of love they managed to fix their home up so it wouldn't be too fresh-looking and hollow. They even managed to do a bit of their own home improvement and add a fireplace. Harry and Ron both worked themselves to death trying to build up a little chimney and at the same time trying not to use magic.  
  
" Hermione." Someone touched her arm. She turned and saw her mother. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were also invited, and they had also been sitting at the Weasley table, trying hard to blend in.  
  
" Mother!" She grinned.  
  
" I've been thinking, Hermione." Her mother reached into her purse. " I see how you and Harry - well, there isn't a child, is there?"  
  
" Mother, I . . ." Hermione blushed deep crimson.  
  
Her mother handed her a little card. " You see, my friend knows this nice lady. She's a doctor, she can help with these things. Science can help, you know."  
  
Hermione shook her head. " Please, don't, I want to - - this isn't necessary. Please, don't." She moved backwards and bumped into a table. She didn't take the card, despite the face her mother was holding it out.  
  
" Hermione, be reasonable. I don't want to see you and Harry to ruin your relationship if you're unable to, well . . ." Her mother coughed.  
  
" Mom! Stop it." She shook her head furiously. " I don't need any help. Especially not doctor's help." Hermione then added, very quietly, trying not to gain anyone else's attention: " There won't be - there isn't - a problem. In fact, Mom, can you keep this quiet?"  
  
Her mother nodded slowly.  
  
" Mother, I'm pregnant. Already." Hermione beamed. " We didn't want to tell anyone, but I see that I can't keep anything from you." Hermione meant this in a nice way, of course, since she and her mother were as close as two peas in a pod.  
  
" How long? Oh, Hermione, this is great news!" Her mother crumpled the card in her hand immediately.  
  
" Three months. I know you can't see much - it's a baggy dress and everything . . ." Tears sparkled in her eyes. " I've never been so happy in my life, mother."  
  
" Are you sure?" Her mother asked. " Oh, of course you're sure." Her mother laughed. " This is glorious. Magnificent." Her mother looked ready to cry. " Girl or boy? Wait, you don't know yet. Oh, this is great!" She turned away, suddenly, wiping at her eyes. " I'll be a grandmother!"  
  
Hermione wrapped her arms around her mother. " Mommy." She said, softly. "Please don't tell anyone yet. It's a surprise. Please?"  
  
" Alright." Her mother nodded, gently petting Hermione's hair. " I'm glad for one thing the most, Hermione."  
  
"What's that?" Hermione looked up at her mother.  
  
" I'm glad that it's with Harry."  
  
~*~  
  
Draco jumped up from the couch as if someone had set him on fire. " It's not what you think!" Draco blurted out, looking at Harry nervously. Harry shook his head.  
  
" It's not, is it?" Harry looked at Ginny. Ginny immediately said:  
  
" Harry, it's okay, I . . ."  
  
" Don't worry, Ginny, we'll clear this up." Ron took Ginny and held her protectively, and then he shot Draco an angry look. " You! How could you! And - - and in some dark coat room!"  
  
Draco shook his head, furious. " I didn't do anything! She came onto me!" He cried out. " I didn't even WANT her to!"  
  
Ron didn't believe it. " Ginny . . .?" He looked down at Ginny's frightened face.  
  
" Ron, that's what I've been trying to tell you! Draco didn't do anything to me! It's true." Ginny whispered, shaking out of fright for the situation she had found herself in. " He didn't!"  
  
Ron pulled away from her. " Then what happened? You were crying!"  
  
" Only because I said something mean to him! I felt really bad! Then he came and he actually listened to me!" Ginny shouted. " How could you just barge in like that and accuse him, when you have no proof!"  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged glances, and then looked at Draco. " But - - why?" Harry asked Draco.  
  
" I don't know! She was crying! I thought I hurt her feeling!" Draco crossed his arms. " Here's news for you, Potter. A Malfoy came here to apologize to a Weasley. Not to rape her or something!" Suddenly, he seemed to be enveloped in blinding anger. He pushed Harry and Ron aside and didn't even look at Ginny as he raced from the room. A second later, Draco had burst into the room where the party was held.  
  
He found Crabbe and Goyle arguing over whether four cups of punch was too much to drink or not. His eyes made contact with theirs and they knew that they were going right then and there.  
  
Draco went to his table and pulled on his coat, for it was winter weather outside, after all. Then, he walked over to Hermione, feeling it was befitting to say goodbye to the host or at least to one of them.  
  
" I'm leaving now. Can you get Crabbe and Goyle to their homes? I believe you have some Floor Powder."  
  
" Well, I do, but . . ."  
  
"Good bye." Draco said.  
  
" Wait!" Hermione cried out. " Why now? Won't you wait for the cake?"  
  
" No." He replied, sharply. Then, he stormed from the room. Hermione watched him and then frowned. " What a temper. What in the devil has gotten into him?"  
  
Lavender sighed from the table behind her. " He sure looks great, though, doesn't he?"  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny looked at Ron and Harry, unbelieving. " How could you guys!" She whispered. " He was grieving today - he was afraid to even look at me. It was all my fault!" Her eyes were misted with tears.  
  
" Now, don't say that!" Ron exclaimed.  
  
" Oh, I will say that, whenever I want to! It's my fault! Stop thinking that ever since Jason I'll be some sort of innocent, vulnerable child! It was really my fault, I kept him here. I just wanted someone to listen to me and understand, for once!" Ginny bit her tongue so she wouldn't cry. Once she'd cry then the two would never take her seriously.  
  
" I'm really sorry." Harry said.  
  
" Don't tell that to me!" Ginny grimaced. " I'm not the one who'd been horribly insulted! You know how Malfoys are all about honor and pride!"  
  
" It won't do any good arguing!" Ron burst out. " Let's just go back to the party and enjoy it before Hermione brings out the cake. She'll get mad if we won't be there."  
  
Harry nodded. " That's right, we can't go off chasing after him now. It's his choice to leave."  
  
" You think he left, too?" Ginny crossed her arms. " Well, no matter. I'll go find him."  
  
" Ginny, are you crazy? It's freezing cold outside! You'll get sick!" Ron complained. Ginny turned to give him a sharp look.  
  
" I'll be fine. I'm not a baby anymore, and I know that if I don't apologize now, nobody will. I've had enough of all the mistrust and all the insults I've been showered with. Now that Draco's down anyway, an insult like that could snap him in half." She motioned outside. It was snowing heavily now. " You think he'll go straight home and forget all about it? From what I see, he'll drop his two buddies off and then wander around somewhere."  
  
With that, she turned around and went into the hallway, heading for the room where the party was taking place.  
  
~*~  
  
The blinding whirlwind of snow outside couldn't have wrapped tighter around Draco. It felt as if someone had pulled a blanket out of the freezer and then whipped it across his body. It was simply horrible.  
  
His thick winter coat, lined with sheep's wool all the way from Finland and with polished golden buttons, couldn't buy him the same warmth and comfort that others had with their ratty, normal coats. Blinking away snowflakes, he worked his way down the street. Muggles were nowhere to be seen.  
  
` At least they have enough brain power to stay out of the snow.' Draco thought bitterly. He kicked his way through a snowdrift, his hand swinging out to snap aside tree branches that dared to get in his way.  
  
He saw a park ahead. He figured he could sit down and just cool off a little. Think a little. Then he'd find a fireplace and get the hell out of this place. Away from Potter, the Muggles, away from his problems, and especially away from Ginny. He never wanted to see her again. It was only to her own best - she could do better then him. Besides nobody would ever even accept him. Not the Weasleys, not Potter. He didn't need them anyway.  
  
Draco found himself standing in between two tall stone pillars that were really the sides of a massive iron gate. He pushed it open and then slowly closed it behind him again. The name of the park came in through the blurring vision of the snow - `Haven'. Draco thought it read Heaven at first and almost smiled, then figured Haven meant something similar.  
  
" Damn."  
  
He leaned back so that the iron bars of the gate pressed into his back through the coat he wore. Draco liked that feeling, the painful ache. It took his mind off of the pain in his mind.  
  
He stood there for a moment, eyes closed, snowflakes sticking into his eyelashes, tickling his face. His mind flashed images of his childhood. Once he had been bold enough to have a pillow fight with his two cousins that had slept over. They were dead now, from pneumonia. A lot of people had died in his life. The Malfoys were weak in the body, but sharper then a tack in the mind. Lucius Malfoy always told Draco to keep that at the top of his brain, always.  
  
Anyhow, he had once had a pillow fight with his cousins. Halfway in, he had busted the entire pillow case on the jagged edge of a griffin statue. Feathers had flown everywhere, just like the snowflakes. His room was covered in feathers.  
  
Even after his father's stern and disciplining lecture (and a bit of a tug on his ears, to show him even more of a point), Draco knew he'd never dissapoint his father or the Malfoy line like that again. What an idiot of a child - to play with pillows, like some sort of . . . well, a child. Why hadn't he been studying, or reading all those books on the Dark Arts in the West Wing?  
  
The memory suddenly turned stale. Draco shifted away from the iron gate and then looked around. Everything was covered with snow. He figured he could sit down on some bench if he found one.  
  
The dark mahogany legs of a bench suddenly struck his eyes. There was a thick layer of snow on the bench already but Draco cleared it all off with a single swoop of his hand. Then, he sat down. The freezing cold snow that piled in between the folds of his shirt collar and his neck didn't matter. The fact that his shoes were wet inside didn't really hit him as important.  
  
With a sigh, he wondered why on Earth had Ginny even bothered kissing him. He didn't ask for it. In fact, he practically asked her to keep away from him. Draco shook his head. He could see the pale face of Pansy in front of his eyes.  
  
*Pansies fade, pansies wither  
  
" Mister!" Someone was saying. His eyes shot open and he saw a little boy in front of him. In the thickly falling snow he'd have thought it was himself, as a child, light hair and thin as a `string bean'. Ginny had said that. Forget Ginny!  
  
Draco shook his head again and then saw the boy closer. Now that the child had come closer it looked nothing like him. " What is it?" Draco asked, before realizing this was a Muggle child after all.  
  
The boy grimaced. He spoke again:" Did you see my mommy?"  
  
Draco looked around. He couldn't see anyone anywhere nearby. " No, I haven't." Draco replied.  
  
" Oh, no!" The boy reached his hand up to his face and wiped a tear away.  
  
" Why? What is it?" Draco asked, gently. If there was one thing that bothered him, it was crying. Women, children, didn't matter. He figured it made him feel too awful inside, as if he ought to be crying too. He was taught not to cry. Crying made one weak. `Damn right.' He thought.  
  
" Well, my mommy said she'd meet me here." The boy whispered hoarsely. " She said she'd meet me in the park and take me out for ice cream if my badminton team wins the Regional Cup."  
  
" Ice cream?" Draco sounded disbelieving. " Not in dead winter. Go back home, your mom's probably going out of her mind looking for you."  
  
" Oh, but my mom's not here." The boy replied.  
  
" Where is she, then, on her free time?" Draco asked, exasperated.  
  
The boy pointed upwards. Draco looked up, blinking away snowflakes. His eyes feasted on the sight of millions of white specks flowing downwards towards the earth in a never-ending ribbon, the sky a cloudy grayish-blue color, like his eyes.  
  
Suddenly, Draco felt remorse. " You mean - in Heaven?" Draco questioned.  
  
The boy nodded curtly. " She promised me, in the summer, that she'll meet me in the park. She promised, no matter what!" His lower lip trembled and more tears flowed down his face. " Not even if she leaves."  
  
" Here, tell me where you live, kid, I'll walk you home." Draco felt a bond between himself and this kid. At least they both lost a loved one. Perhaps Muggle kids weren't as horrid as the older members of their society were.  
  
" But Mommy promised!" The boy stamped his foot angrily.  
  
" Then how about I buy you some ice cream instead?" Draco reached into his pocket, his fingers finding a few shillings. He'd taken the care of providing himself some Muggle money before coming out here. " Because sometimes people - when they go to Heaven - they can go with you, to the ice cream parlor or someplace." He paused. " But you don't see them. Your mother will be there, I'm sure."  
  
The boy tried to understand.  
  
" You know. Their spirit." Draco didn't quite know how to explain it, himself. He wasn't a religious person. In fact, he was a far cry from religious, so he knew he'd be better off explaining the Dark Arts then about Heaven and spirits and such delightful things.  
  
The boy reached his hand out. " Then I'm going myself."  
  
Draco put some money into his outstretched hand, then said: " How far to the ice cream parlor?"  
  
" About - well, four or five minutes of walking." The boy replied.  
  
" I'll walk you there." Draco knew the last thing he needed was to feel guilty if the kid was kidnapped or hit by a car or some other atrocity.  
  
The little boy beamed. His eyes traced over Draco's delicate features and his very light hair, face, and white-covered clothing. " I'm Devin. Who're you? An angel?"  
  
Draco laughed. " More like the opposite." Suddenly, he decided not to say his name. Devin didn't ask for his name, though. He simply grinned and then ran up the path. Draco followed him through the blinding snow.  
  
A/N: Well hey! I don't think he'd leave a little kid in a blizzard!  
  
~*~  
  
Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione from behind and then kissed her neck under her ear gently. She blushed and then felt his hand trail to her protruding stomach. Her hands held the cake platter to cover her stomach. Harry and Hermione then split apart and carried the plate over to the nearest table and then set it down. A single candle shone in its center, and two at each side, representing them.  
  
Everyone gathered around. Ginny stood a bit separately. Ron had convinced her to wait through the cake before running off like a fool after Draco. Ginny's eyes studied the way Harry leaned over and kissed Hermione again, over the cake. Then, they turned to the crowd around the table.  
  
" Go on! Blow the candles out!" Seamus cheered.  
  
Mr. Granger and Mr. Weasley raised their wineglasses triumphantly, clinking them. " To the Potters." They murmured.  
  
Harry and Hermione talked amongst each other. " Do we blow them out at once?"  
  
" Maybe you do one side, I do the other."  
  
" But then who does the one in the middle?"  
  
" Just blow!"  
  
They both took deep breaths and then blew the candles out. Hermione grinned as they all were extinguished.  
  
" What'd you wish for, you two? Did it come true?" Parvati cried out.  
  
" How could it? In a second?" Padma said in reply.  
  
" I didn't ask you." Parvati kidded.  
  
Harry brought Hermione close, sweeping her off her feet in a kiss. Hermione nodded and then pulled away. " It came true, alright!" She then suddenly said: "Do we tell them, Harry?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
Hermione began: " Well, uh, Oliver, remember the gift you provided?"  
  
" Sure. Don't do any demonstrations, alright?" Oliver shouted out.  
  
Harry turned scarlet. He turned red easily about things. He was one of those shy kind of guys, Ginny decided. Harry said: " There will be a little Potter tyke. Our wish." He put his hand on Hermione's stomach.  
  
" You mean!" Lavender squealed.  
  
Cho Chang rushed forwards immediately, being the sporty one, and then immediately gave Harry and Hermione a tight hug (a bit looser for Hermione in respect for the baby she was now carrying).  
  
" How long?"  
  
" Really?"  
  
" What'd she say?" Neville asked, who had been busy trying to wash sour cream out of his tie.  
  
" Three months." Hermione said, cutting the cake. Harry put it on plates and passed the plates around. Ginny took a plate and ate hurriedly, standing. She watched Hermione closely. Ginny always wondered how it would feel, to have a baby inside oneself. She wondered if one felt heavy, or if the stomach would weigh a woman down a bit so she'd lean backwards to keep in balance?  
  
" And you didn't tell us?" Molly Weasley scolded.  
  
Ron smiled. It appeared Harry had told Ron in secret. After all, Harry and Ron were the closest of friends and only if they both go deaf-mute-blind would they stop communicating every little thing to one another.  
  
Ginny suddenly walked up to Hermione. " I have to be going. I think I ate too much cake, Herm."  
  
Hermione looked concerned right off.  
  
Ginny laughed a fake laugh. " Oh, don't worry about me, I'll walk it off and then come back."  
  
" You tell me if you feel bad. I carry a bit of Madame Pomfrey's Cure-All Flu and Cold Medicine." Hermione said.  
  
" Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Ginny have Hermione an embrace, kissing her cheek lightly. " Thank you for everything, all your advice." Then, she turned to Harry. "See ya, Harry. Remember, you still owe me three Sickles for that poker game!" With that, she left, pulling on her coat, trying to look cheery.  
  
" The young these days." Mrs. Granger said wistfully, her eyes trailing over to Hermione with a smile.  
  
~*~  
  
The ice cream parlor glowed cheerfully as Draco crossed the street, little Devin running alongside him. Devin pointed at the ice cream parlor's window. " Look! They have the controversial slime flavor!"  
  
" Sounds great." Draco said, trying to spare the sarcasm. Then he added: " Do you know your - what's that called?" He thought hard. " Telephone number?"  
  
" Sure do!" Devin cried out and then recited it.  
  
" Great. Well, I want you to buy some ice cream and use the rest of this money to call home. Have your dad or someone else take you by Floo - - car. Take you by car." Draco then pushed a handful of coins into the boy's hand and turned to leave.  
  
" Goodbye, mister!" The boy waved.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny rushed down the street, her dress rustling like a potato sack being rubbed against the bark of a tree. She wished she hadn't insisted on heels. Oh, how her legs hurt! Oh, oh, oh, ouch!  
  
She stumbled down the street, knowing that Draco wouldn't have walked into the stores for they were Muggle facilities, after all. Ginny was soon out of breath, never being very athletic. Her hand wiped the thin layer of sweat off of her nose as she thought about where Draco could be.  
  
Haven Park was close by, but would Draco go there? In this heavy snow?  
  
It was a possibility, then again. He could be anywhere, after all, and she hadn't the time or the patience to search the corners of the world for him. If she didn't find him soon she'd just have to forget it.  
  
The Iron Gate of Haven Park was shut, and she had to push it open. It was really heavy and rusty and the hinges squeaked so loudly that shivers ran up and down her spine, raising the hair on her neck. She closed it quickly and then walked up the path, the snow wetting her dress so that it flapped wetly against her ankles.  
  
" Oh, please be here. My legs are killing me." Ginny saw that someone had brushed the snow off of the bench she was standing near. It was a long shot, but she decided to follow the half-buried footprints to see if they were his.  
  
Suddenly she noted that the footprints were going along with the steps of a child. Draco didn't have a child as far as she knew! Ginny felt tense all of a sudden, and cold at that. She minded the freezing wet snow, the way it hurt her skin at contact, the way her cheeks felt so frosty and red. Her breath was a silver, icy cloud as she sighed and kept rushing up the path.  
  
Then, she saw a dark shape advancing up the path in front of her. Her hopes high, she began to run. " Draco?" She cried out. " Is that you? I wanted to tell you - - I'm sorry for what I did - - I had no business - - I didn't know Ron and Harry. . ." She couldn't finish any of her sentences, all the words she had planned in an eloquent speech now rushing out in a rambling mess.  
  
There he was - Draco in his sad, kicked-puppy glory, materializing through the snowflakes. " I'm sorry." She gasped out, breathing heavily.  
  
He reached out, taking her freezing fingers into his warm hands. " It's too cold. Look at you, you're all wet, and shivering. Go back." He simply said. And yet, she could see he didn't want her to go back. He kept holding onto her hand, not letting it go, not even realizing he was doing it. His breath was rushed, that of a person on the verge of a breakdown.  
  
Through the silver white cloud his breath was making, she saw he was also soaked.  
  
" You're cold too. Why don't we both go back?" Ginny insisted. " I wanted to get you back. Harry and Ron are really sorry."  
  
" Sorry my ass." Draco said bitterly. He realized the involuntary hold of his hands and he instantly let go of her fingers.  
  
" They are! They'd have attacked Neville or Seamus or Oliver, too, if he were in your place. They're just so protective of me, since I'm the little sister to both of them." Ginny could see that disbelief still lingered on her face. " Come back. We can . . ."  
  
" There's no `we'." Draco said, shortly.  
  
" What?" Ginny whispered.  
  
" I said, there's no `we'. You know as well as I know that if for some oddball reason you'd even consider me as some sort of courtier . . ." He said this in a rushed voice. " . . . Well, nobody would be happy with it. And frankly, you won't be happy with me."  
  
" How do you know?" She demanded.  
  
" Look at me." He held his hands out. " I can't even think about a relationship - I can't - Pansy."  
  
" Well I can also say this: Jason. Do you think I managed to get over him? No! But sometimes it's easier to share the pain instead of . . ."  
  
" It's not the same." Draco said, shaking his head. " I feel as if I'd died inside. You're so alive, and full of life. You won't be happy, not even after a week with me."  
  
" Were you like that with Pansy? She was happy with you, wasn't she?"  
  
" It's not the same."  
  
" Nothing's the same!" Ginny suddenly felt like crawling under a rock. " I thought - I thought you were interested in me."  
  
Draco didn't reply. He didn't know if he was interested in her or not. Nothing made sense to him anymore. Life didn't make sense. He grasped her arms, just below the shoulders, holding her squarely in front of him, madly. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Being accused of what Potter and Weasley accused me of was more then what Malfoy enemies died from before. I don't want to see them anymore."  
  
" I'm telling you - - they're really sorry."  
  
" And I'm sorry for telling you about myself! I'm sorry that you had to meet me! Someone like you ought to keep away from people like me." Draco said. "Do you know what my life is, now?"  
  
She shook her head, frightened.  
  
" Drinking. And wishing I was dead. And being alone. Do you want to join me?" He shook her. "Do you?"  
  
A tear slipped from her eye.  
  
" Listen, I'm saving you from a horrible life. You'll regret it every day, and so would I, if I didn't put a line here. I don't need anybody. You need Potter and the Weasleys, and you need people all around you." He repeated: " I don't need anybody."  
  
" Yes you do!" Ginny shouted. " You're so depressed already! You'll - you'll go crazy!"  
  
" Look, don't make this harder. I do like you, all right? In fact, I might even begin to LOVE you. That's why I want the best for you. Go find yourself someone like Seamus or Oliver or Neville, where you'll never have to worry."  
  
" Draco . . ." She breathed out.  
  
He turned away and then said, avoiding her. " You won't have a perfect life with me. It would take months, years for your family and my family to accept it. Haven't you read Romeo and Juliet?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
" I read it too - it won't work. It'll be completely against the Malfoy honor. With a WEASLEY!" Draco felt weak inside suddenly. " You're shaking. Go. I'll be fine. I'm going to go home right now."  
  
" No you won't! You're coming back to the party, even if I have to drag you." Ginny threatened. " You're so disillusioned! Don't you see? Nobody minds you that much at all! It's your own self that created whatever conflict you see. Harry and Ron are sorry, you know just as well as I do that your parents couldn't give a damn about you now that You-Know-Who's gone and their lives are meaningless. My parents just want me to be happy. And I will be happy." Ginny felt like crying. " When I talked to you, I saw that you needed someone to listen. And I need someone to listen. We can listen together. Please."  
  
Draco saw the tears in her eyes, and knew he had to decide. Should he back out, abandon this all, or could he return to the party, to slowly begin the reshaping, the rebuilding of his life from the tatters it had become?  
  
A/N: I stop here. * looks at reviews * 10? Yay! Come on, do some more now! I appreciate kind criticism but not flames. You see, Draco's just totally fallen apart. He was raised to have a strict, scheduled life. He was never taught how to deal with what life had thrown him. His life is worthless to him lately. He's blunt and honest but at the same time disillusioned. Will Ginny, with her loving heart and kind soul, be the one to guide him back to the world again? (wow I sound like a Harlequin novel perhaps. D/G! Ah to those who dislike it!). What more of Harry and Hermione's perfect relationship? What will Neville spill, destroy, or mutilate next? 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or other associated stuff. And I'm definetaly not making any money off of this. Unless there's something I should know about . . .?   
  
Thank you for all the reviews, everyone! If I could I'd send all of you a huge smiley face balloon!  
  
By the way, this is short and will be in majority about Draco since he's going to have a bit of an epiphany. Ch. 5 will be more about Harry and Hermione. Really!  
  
And what's up with ch.3? They didn't add it to the word count on FanFiction.net!!!! I mean, I have exactly 22,450 words or something and its only showing up 15,000 of them. D'oh! People will think I didn't write much!   
  
Oh and experienced authors out there! I keep trying to make italics, bold print, font, or font size to work from Microsoft Word (97 version) to download into the story! I am at a breaking point! It's so annoying!  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Ron took a large spoonful of cake into his mouth and then closed his eyes. Hermione wondered if the cake had killed him. "Ron?" She asked, nervously. Ron's eyes shot open and he grinned broadly.  
  
" I'm savoring it, Hermione."  
  
" It's good?" She asked.  
  
" If it wouldn't be, I wouldn't be smiling, would I?" Ron then looked at Harry. "Right, Harry? It's delicious."  
  
Harry nodded. " The best cake I've ever eaten, in fact."  
  
" You guys are just being nice." Hermione protested. Then, she tasted the cake herself. Her attitude changed suddenly. " Hey! I finally cooked something! And it's not disgusting!"  
  
Fred and George laughed. " We can help change that."  
  
" Don't you dare." Hermione said, threateningly. " You put one thing in the cake and you'll be eating it for the rest of the night."  
  
" Sounds fair." Fred joked.  
  
" Hey, where's Crabbe and Goyle?" George suddenly realized the absence of these bumbling two men.  
  
" I sent them off home." Hermione explained. " Draco had to leave unexpectedly." She had no idea why, but the Weasley twins didn't ask.  
  
" He was eyeing Ginny, I think." Fred said, thoughtfully.  
  
" I don't think he's that bad of a guy." George noted. " I mean, he was pretty nice to Ginny, dancing with her and everything."  
  
" Yeah." Hermione stood up suddenly. " I have to speak to Harry."  
  
~*~  
  
Draco shook his head. " No. I can't." Then, he added: " Go back to the party. Forget about me."  
  
Ginny's eyes flowed with tears of frustration, hurt, and shock. He turned away and then said goodbye. She didn't reply, she only said: "This isn't goodbye!"  
  
He kept walking away from her, half expecting to have her run after him, to pull him back, but she didn't. So, heart heavy and head hung low, Draco walked away from her. Ginny stood watching, then turned and walked the other way. As she went through the gate marked `Haven' and back out of the park, she suddenly felt so terrible, as if she should have done more.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny walked into the party room, peeling her wet coat off. She walked right up to Neville, since he was, after all, Dear Nev, the advice man. He looked up and exclaimed: " I thought you left, Ginny."  
  
" Nope." She sat down in front of him. " I need advice, Neville."  
  
" Really?" He mumbled. " I - I don't r-really give advice o-orally. I prefer, w-well, writing it, it's a bit less p-personal that way." He seemed nervous.  
  
" Oh, don't worry! I won't press charges or something if the advice backflips!" Ginny laughed. " I wrote to your column before, you know."  
  
" When?" Neville asked.  
  
" You printed that one letter, about the girl that went through a traumatic event, and nobody would allow her to tell of her traumatic event, and that everyone just told her to keep it inside since it hurt to talk!" Ginny rattled off, since she had practiced what to say to Neville before she even got into the building.  
  
" That was you?" Neville looked astounded. " I got a boatload of replies to that!"  
  
` Really?"  
  
" Yes. A lot of men were saying things about you getting a boyfriend to listen to you. There were some very intrigued ladies writing, tying your story in with something that happened to them. You sparked off a real hot topic." Neville was getting warmed up now, feeling a bit familiar with Ginny's problems.  
  
" I have another problem." Ginny sighed. " Can I keep you in complete, utter confidence?"  
  
" Sure." Neville said.  
  
" You see - well - I have always needed someone to listen." Ginny felt her heart flip-flop. " I think I found someone who'd listen to me."  
  
" That's great, Ginny!" Neville said.  
  
"Not that great." Ginny replied. " I - I feel that this person isn't interested in me, not to the extent that I think I'm attracted to him."  
  
" How do you know?" Neville reasoned. " I mean, some guys don't just go right out and then tell a girl they love her dearly. Especially if the man we are speaking of is Draco Malfoy."  
  
Ginny felt her whole face turn deep red. " How - how did you know?"  
  
" Hearing people's problems for so long, I'm used to thinking this way. Usually, when people fall in love, especially in the letters I receive, it is an unlikely marriage. For instance, I had cases of women marrying people that bullied them during school years. I've had men that fell in love with the younger sister of their best friend. I've had enemies fall in love. I've seen cousins fall in love. I've seen many things in letters. Or, actually, I've read." Neville cleared his throat noisily. " Not that some of the stuff I'd seen was normal. I've also had some odd things, that I couldn't even print due to the controversy it would cause."  
  
" I can understand." Ginny said. She crossed her legs. " You're a guy. Tell me, did Draco look interested in me?"  
  
" I didn't really observe you and Draco tonight." Neville sighed. " I've been trying to back out of pointless conversations with Lavender Brown all evening. She seems to really enjoy the presence of males." Suddenly, a piece of Neville's cheesecake fell into his lap. " Shoot!"  
  
He picked it up. " At least it did not stain."  
  
When he was picking it up, his elbow bumped the table and Ginny caught his wineglass before it fell onto him. " Thank you." Neville said.  
  
" Thanks for your advice." Ginny stood up again.  
  
" Where are you going now?" Neville questioned.  
  
" I think I should go comb my hair down. That wind and snow can do real horrors to a hairstyle." Ginny gave Neville a bright grin and she then walked out of the room. She passed Hermione as she went. Hermione rushed up to her, wanting to speak with Ginny, but Ginny held up one finger to indicate `one second', as in - `wait!'.  
  
She rushed down the hallway outside and then ran into the washroom to comb her hair. She figured that maybe, just maybe, Draco would return to see her still.  
  
~*~  
  
" Harry!" Hermione stopped right in front of him.  
  
" Oh! Hey, Hermione. You look angry." He exclaimed.  
  
" No, I'm actually just upset." She said. " I want to know what happened that made Draco leave in such a huff. Don't think I didn't notice that you and Ron left the room the moment Draco and Ginny did!"  
  
Harry looked embarrassed.  
  
" It's a long story." Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck.  
  
" I demand to know!" Hermione said, planting her foot firmly to the ground. Her eyes searched Harry's face for a clue as to what had happened, even before Harry might begin revealing the story to her.  
  
" Well, when both Draco and Ginny left, I figured that he might be trying to pull something funny. Ron and I went to just check things out. When I found Ginny and Draco, he was kissing her." Harry bit his lower lip. " I assumed he was putting the moves on her."  
  
" Harry . . ." She said in a disappointed voice, and reasonably so.  
  
" I'm sorry." He said, making his lower lip tremble in a cute way. Hermione laughed and then said:  
  
" Don't think you can charm me over!"  
  
" Oh, I can't, can't I?" He grinned.  
  
" Nope." She teased.  
  
" Well, I'm really awfully sorry. I did tell him that. He was just very worked up about things. You can't exactly do something like that to a Malfoy and expect to wake up alive."  
  
" You wouldn't really wake up dead, either." Hermione said.  
  
" Yes you - - well, I guess you're right." Harry laughed. " You can't wake up dead."  
  
Hermione sighed. " I can't ever be upset with you. I believe you, about being sorry. Call me over-won by your charm."  
  
" I have more where that came from." Harry winked.  
  
" Save it for later." Hermione then decided to go check on Ginny, for Ginny wasn't quite herself anymore now, especially when she and Ginny bumped into each other a while ago. Ginny looked rushed and worried.  
  
~*~  
  
Cho leaned forwards. " So, Oliver, what are you doing now?"  
  
" You mean, career-wise?" Oliver asked.  
  
" Yes." Cho said.  
  
" Well, I've been doing a few things. I had been instructor for Quidditch in Hogwarts for a year, helping Madame Hooch (she isn't getting any younger, you know)." Oliver then added: " I've also been studying hard. Perhaps I can become part of the Ministry of Magic."  
  
" Perhaps." Cho yawned lightly. " Goodness, it's getting late. Anyone who's wandering around now must be out of their mind."  
  
" Nobody's wondering around." Oliver said.  
  
" Is Hermione a good teacher?" Cho asked, suddenly.  
  
" I haven't really seen her in class." Oliver explained. " I did bump into a few of her students when they'd come to my Quidditch lessons. They say she's really nice, and things like that. You know how it is with children."  
  
" Oh, I know, alright." Cho grinned. " Everyone always likes the teacher that gives the least work."  
  
" Remember that class - Sprout's Advanced Herbology? I took it during my seventh year. All we did was sit around watching her do demonstrations, ever since some kid got severely bitten by a plant. I hear it bit his arm off." He shook his head. " Poor Madame Pomfrey had a real hard time working on him."  
  
" I remember that class!" Cho's eyes danced merrily. " Professor Sprout was great, wasn't she?"  
  
" I think she's here today. I saw her with Madame Hooch at the table with the other professors and teachers." Oliver said. He suddenly noticed how fun Cho was - her personality was radiant, she was very kind and intelligent, and interested in Quidditch, just as he was.  
  
~*~  
  
The air was frosty, the snowflakes thinning out so that Draco could see moderately well down the cemented, paved street. He didn't quite know where he was going, but his feet were leading him somewhere that he felt was important, and since he didn't know quite well where he ought to be going himself, he decided to follow his instincts.  
  
His mind floated among many thoughts, a jumbled mess, concerning himself with everything but with Ginny. He didn't want to think of her, standing all alone, wet and cold and shaking, in the middle of the park, her breath white and frosty and her red hair horribly tousled.  
  
The streetlights were on already, and shops were closing for the day. Draco stopped to watch the man in the flower shop clearing away flowers from the window display. A bouquet of pansies was suddenly tossed into a black garbage bag and very vivid red roses took their place.  
  
Draco continued down the street.  
  
He had a scarf, a silver-colored one that he would wear as Head Boy. Now he looked down at the dainty silver threads and Draco wondered why he bothered to purchase it. He remembered the moment that he saw it in Diagon Alley with his father, this great silver scarf to fit in with the Slytherin colors. Draco hadn't been that excited in ages as he burst into the store and bought it immediately.  
  
After a few days of decorating him in the winter, it lost its significance. The material wasn't so soft and cuddly after a washing, and even though Narcissa tried, it never got that bouncy and airy feel to it. Draco stopped wearing it once Voldemort was defeated, only because his father had gone in to an odd state of madness and in doing so he had taken Draco's scarf and thrown it out the window of their mansion. Draco figured it had fallen into the pond that was part of their landscaping, but a year ago he found it while cleaning out a gutter for Narcissa. His father remained secluded in a room in the mansion, mad as a dog. The Malfoys made it a point to preserve this fact only to themselves, due to the dishonor it gave.  
  
He reached up, taking hold of the scarf. Slowly, he pulled it off his neck and then stopped to look at a little blue bin in front of a store. On the top it read: Salvation Army. Draco had heard that the Salvation Army had set up a small shop somewhere in the area. They were on a weeklong project to collect winter clothing for children in some faraway country called Zaire. Draco pushed his scarf into the slot in the cardboard bit that covered the bin's contents.  
  
Once he saw his scarf confined in the blue bars of the bin, Draco only then realized what he had done. It was almost in a hazy trance that he had done this, for he simply wasn't thinking and when he saw: `Put your scarves, hats, gloves here' written on the cardboard piece he did it.  
  
He poked his finger into the bin, wondering if he ought to fish the scarf out.  
  
" Bless you, child." An old woman chattered from the doorway. He hadn't even taken note that someone was watching over the bin.  
  
Draco straightened up, looking at the woman with interest. She didn't say it with a mean-spirited voice, so he figured she meant him well. The old woman shifted on her cane, her grizzled face coming closer to Draco's: " Not many young ones come so far out here to drop off a scarf."  
  
Draco nodded, wanting to get away.  
  
The old woman reached into the pocket of the white apron she had on and then handed him a little sticker. It didn't even glow or sparkle or show images - it was flat and 2D. On it was the Salvation Army's logo and the words `Thank you'. Draco flipped the sticker around, hoping to see more, then figured Muggles knew nothing about constructing worthy stickers.  
  
The old woman watched him, almost expecting Draco to stick the sticker onto himself somewhere. Draco pushed it into his coat pocket and said: " Thank you."  
  
" No, I thank YOU." Then, the woman leaned back and sat down in a chair prepared for her. Her eyes stared wistfully at the bin at her feet. Other then Draco's scarf, there was a very ugly purple hat that was so elongated it wouldn't fit anyone's head, and there were black leather mittens that were stitched up in two places. They looked all right otherwise, though. There was another scarf, also, and this scarf was very flowery and in many shades and hues.  
  
Looking at these meager, poor articles of clothing made Draco feel very sad all of a sudden. He brushed away the snowflakes from his shoulders and then walked further down the street, nodding in a farewell to the old woman. She must not have seen him though for she didn't make any motion back.  
  
The street came to an end and then there were two streets branching off, one to the left and one to the right. Draco vaguely remembered this place now and he took the way left.  
  
A few children raced by him on the street, a very round and jolly-looking man chasing after them. " Catch me daddy!" A little girl squealed. The jolly man reached out and grasped the child's hood.  
  
" No fair!" The girl grumbled.  
  
Draco stepped aside as two little boys, twins, came after the girl. "Daddy! Daddy! Can we get some hot caw - caw?"  
  
" It's cocoa." The father smiled. "Sure."  
  
" Race you!" The girl hollered, running further down the street. The others followed in pursuit. Draco watched them disappear around the bend of the street. He tried to remember the last time he had played like that, with his father. Then it struck him that he hadn't. The only thing he and his father did together that would be remotely fun was talk. They'd have hour-long conversations sometimes over winter vacation, discussing topics on about everything. Draco had always been the devil's advocate. If his father would begin to preach on Dark Arts, Draco would counter with why it was evil and wrong, just to see his father's reactions. Hardly ever were the reactions nice ones, though.  
  
Walking further down the street, Draco came across a stray dog walking down the street, tail tucked between its legs. The dog looked at him sadly, almost waiting for that bone or scrap of meat to fall in front of it. Draco reached out to pet it but it cowered away and then ran into an alleyway nearby.  
  
Draco rubbed his hands together. It was getting to be cold.  
  
Suddenly, he stopped in front of the ice cream shop. Devin was still inside, sitting at a table. The little boy had two servings of ice cream sundae in front of him. One was put in front of an empty seat and the other one was in front of him. Draco realized the boy was probably eating with his `Mommy'. Devin turned to the chair to his left and then chatted happily. The chair, of course, showed no sign of reply. Devin giggled happily and then dug his spoon into the other sundae, tasting it. Then, he lifted his own, in offering to the chair.  
  
Devin was so small, his feet swung above the floor as he sat on the chair. He couldn't have been more then five or so.  
  
Draco pressed closer to the window of the little shop. His breath clouded the window and his fingertips skimmed the cold surface of the glass, a pained expression on his face. He watched Devin offer his ice cream to the chair again, then shrug.  
  
" She's not there." Draco whispered to himself. " Sorry, kid. There's nothing left of her."  
  
Devin suddenly got up, carrying a little canister of sprinkles to the table. He poured some onto his ice cream, then hesitated before dumping an entire hill of sprinkles on his mother's ice cream sundae. Those colorful, cheerful sprinkles seemed to hideously out of place.  
  
Draco's heart suddenly squeezed.  
  
Devin was feeding a ghost. A ghost of a love that could never be fed, ever again, and yet Devin did it. The ice cream that was to be his mother's was melting from the warmth and lights in the shop, but Devin kept it there, waiting to see when it would slowly perhaps be eaten by the ghost - waiting for what will never come, for what lingered in the past.  
  
Draco felt a catch in his stomach, a pull that hurt.  
  
He had been romancing a ghost as well - the ghost of Pansy. He had been a complete and total reject of love and the opposite sex ever since her death. There had not been a day when he hadn't reflected on her, when he hadn't piled ice cream for Pansy, this syrup-sweet bowl of devotion that was of no use anymore. If someone was to consume that bowl, it would have to be someone else.  
  
The ghost of romance that Draco had been holding so close needed to be able to escape. Suddenly, Draco turned around, his heart beating wildly. This was it. He had to stop offering his affection to something that was gone forever, that was in his past. How stupid could he have been, to jerk away whatever he had let Ginny taste, for a while, only to return to a sorry state - like Devin. Devin, sitting there all alone, feet swinging up above the floor, tiny sneakers streaked with mud, speaking to his mother, offering her ice cream that wasn't being eaten.  
  
Draco walked quickly down the street in the opposite direction.  
  
He found himself standing in front of the flower shop again. With a flourish, he burst inside, the bells jangling overhead, and he stopped in front of the shop owner's desk. The man looked up, tiny metal-rimmed glasses perched on a long hooked nose. "May I help you, young man?"  
  
" I want some flowers." Draco said.  
  
A weight lifted from his heart. God, was it good, to buy flowers again. To have someone to buy flowers to. To have flowers in his hand. God, was it good!  
  
The man smiled. " What occasion?"  
  
Draco remembered that the last time he had purchased flowers, they were wrapped in a black ribbon, put onto the top of a handsome oak casket, which was lowered into the soft folds of Earth, never to see the world again. Inside that casket was Pansy, Pansy that had faded away right before his own eyes. The siren noise flashed in his mind again, the blinking lights of the ambulance. He almost backed away, then bit his lower lip, stiffly: " In a form of apology, sir."  
  
" Apology." He took in a deep breath. His nostrils flared and then flattened against the hooked nose, that of a hawk's. The man asked: " May I ask to whom? Relative, friend, otherwise?"  
  
` What is this? 20 Questions?' Draco thought, feeling a sudden anger. It was entirely his own private damn business what he wanted to buy and to whom. He could be buying flowers for his dog for all anyone cared.  
  
" To a girl." Draco said.  
  
" Ah!" The man grinned happily. " I will be right back." He ducked into a backroom. Draco stood before the desk, twiddling his thumbs a bit like some sort of nervous love-struck teenager. His eyes fell upon a lovely flower arrangement, until he read the words on it: ` In deepest Memory of ______________'. Draco remembered Pansy's funeral once again.  
  
//\\Flashback//\\  
  
A thin drizzle was falling, the ground a muddy mess beneath his feet. All around him were people he had invited - Parkinsons and Malfoys. Nobody other then that, not even Crabbe and Goyle. He didn't want anyone else to see Pansy, his beautiful, beautiful Pansy, lowered into the ground.  
  
The Parkinsons had asked some sort of man to come to give a bit of a blessing for the funeral. Draco did not know what religion they were - if they were any - but it felt comforting to listen to the man. He told of Pansy and the good things she had done, speaking of her in ways she had never been spoken of in real life. Then, the man asked if anyone wanted to say anything.  
  
` Yes! I do!' Draco wanted to shout, to begin telling everyone who Pansy was to him, how it was completely unfair that it was her in that cold wooden casket.  
  
The drizzle turned into a downpour, howling in Draco's ears. Men with shovels began to push heavy clumps of soil over onto the casket. The mud fell heavily on the casket. Draco watched as people began to walk away, shielding themselves from the rain. But who was shielding Pansy?  
  
They would all go off and home to eat dinner by candlelight, to sleep on their feather beds, to make love to their partners, to dream sweet dreams. Pansy was in her mud-spattered, cold, wet casket.  
  
Draco remained standing in front of the grave, watching as the men buried it. Not even when Mrs. Parkinson came up to him, telling him they will take him home, did he willingly go. He slowly turned away, listening to the crunch-swish sound of the ground being broken up wit the stiff metal shovels and then heaved onto Pansy.  
  
It was the single most horrible moment of his life, the one that remained like a twisted image in a shattered mirror - seven years bad luck.  
  
//\\ end of flashback //\\  
  
The man returned from the backroom holding a happy bouquet of roses like the one that had pushed the pansies out of their display in the store window. Draco shook his head. " I - - they're not what I'm looking for." Draco said.  
  
" These are the single most beautiful flowers we have in stock!" The man said, wearily.  
  
" I - I understand, sir, but they're just not what I'm looking for." Draco then said: " I saw some nice pansies in the window display on the way by a few minutes ago."  
  
" Those hideous old things? I tossed them out." The man exclaimed.  
  
" I'd like them, please." Draco said, firmly.  
  
The man shrugged and then went to the garbage bag by the door. He dug the flowers out. The flowers weren't even wilted; they were simply not in the style now for the winter. They were also not very pretty pansies.  
  
" You can have them, gratis to the shop." The man said, then handed them to Draco. " Would you like some foil or a ribbon to wrap that up for you?"  
  
" No." Draco said. " Nobody's going to pack up my pansies again." He hugged them to himself and then left the store. He had someone to offer a nice, warm bowl of affection to. Someone to offer pansies to.  
  
A/N: I'm sorry that was very short, half as long as the other chapters! I just needed to make it short to make a point about the epiphany (did you like it?). Are you people getting all the symbols, motifs, and stuff?  
  
(^_^) 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I just feel like writing.  
  
A/N: Thank you for the entire lovely reviews section so far! I'm sorry that this is put up a bit later then the other chapters, but I was very ill. I am still ill but I'm a bit better at least.  
  
This will be the last chapter, it is short. I wanted it to be exactly like this! Really! I wrote the ending before I wrote the first chapter, even, so I could work up to the ending! So hah! Sorry if I had anyone's hopes up. I am writing a story called "Like the Wind" It is in the Originals Fantasy Section and I am really proud of it. Please check it out, even if you only like Harry Potter. I wrote the story when I was twelve and going through very hard times (a battle with bulimia). Please check it out.  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Ginny jerked the cold handle of the brush through her hair. The two chopsticks lay on the counter of the bathroom, both slightly tangled in single strands of hair. Having unusually thick, bouncy hair, Ginny had the most awful time getting it combed. Usually people comb their hair on the surface and it'll be fine. Her hair was so thick the brush's bristles didn't go through her hair entirely, leaving the underside of her hair matted and tangled. Ginny had to tilt her head to the side and then comb from the bottom as well, which was not only annoying but painful as well.  
  
Her dress was drying out a bit. Since she was in the confines of the ladies' room, she had locked the door and then unzipped her dress, leaving it on the heater in the corner of the room to dry up a bit. She stood in her slip and in an undershirt that she'd worn since the fancy stitching on her dress irritated her skin unless she had something to shield her neck and chest from it.  
  
Despite her tries, her eyes looked dark now, almost frightening in effect, due to the fact that her mascara had run. Nearly every lady knows (and gentlemen can imagine) what murder it can be to wash black ink-like substance off your face with only your hands and very stale, tepid water that smelled of rust.  
  
Ginny dipped her hand under the sink, the water splashing away black streaks that ran down her fingers. The warm atmosphere in the bathroom gave her comfort and she moved freely inside it.  
  
She looked into the mirror again, trying to analyze what she saw. It had been a while since she had last cut her hair. Molly Weasley would usually cut the Weasley's hair, or Arthur if he had time, but nevertheless neither of these people had any knowledge in fashionable haircuts. Ron was prime example. Since the Weasleys were very interested in saving money lately, Ron had his hair cut by Arthur. Now Ron had an interesting haircut where he had very wispy bangs in front, which were short, like baby hairs. In the back his hair was longer, and it looked slightly spiked on top. It looked rather odd, as if someone had cut it different lengths all over.  
  
Ginny had saved her hair for a long time to keep it from being cut, for reasons she didn't want to explain to her parents. Now she wondered if she looked ugly with her hair that way. Was this the reason Draco might have been so - repulsed - kissing her? It couldn't have been, though! Pansy wasn't attractive either, but Draco had no problem with her.  
  
Ginny heard a rap on the door. She turned to look at the doorway and she said, softly: "Who is it?"  
  
" Ginny, is that you in there?" Hermione's voice asked.  
  
" Yes." Ginny replied, scurrying to the heater to get her dress.  
  
" Can I come in?" Hermione sounded very kind and gentle. Ginny shook her head and then realized Hermione couldn't see her shake her head so she called out:  
  
" No. Sorry."  
  
Hermione was silent for a moment.  
  
" I hope you're not crying?" Hermione questioned.  
  
" No." Ginny said, pulling the warm and still semi-wet dress onto her. She had trouble zipping it in the back. Molly Weasley had zipped it up for her when she was dressing earlier in the afternoon.  
  
" Ginny, I know that you're upset about Draco. Please don't lock yourself up in there like this." Hermione sounded very upset.  
  
" I'm just drying my dress out. I was outside, remember?" Ginny replied. This was partially true, after all. Hermione shook her head.  
  
" I hope so."  
  
" I'm fine, really." Ginny wiped at her eyes furiously with the paper towel in her hand. She knew her mascara was even more smeared now. It looked as if she had been crying for hours on end. She debated whether to open the door or not. Finally, Ginny jerked the bathroom door open.  
  
" Oh! You have been crying!" Hermione exclaimed when she caught sight of Ginny and the mascara that had run from her eyelashes and to where it ought not to be on her face.  
  
" No, it's not what you think. I've just smudged it, myself." Ginny explained, but she could see Hermione didn't believe her.  
  
" You know, Ginny, there are plenty of fish in the sea." Hermione began.  
  
" Please, it isn't like that at all! Don't worry about me, I'm fine."  
  
" Well, I hope this isn't what I think it is." Hermione looked at Ginny with understanding eyes. " If you'd like to talk to me about anything, I'm always here. I can listen to you, if you really wish to speak about something."  
  
Ginny nodded slowly.  
  
" I guess there is something I'd like to talk to you about." Ginny admitted.  
  
Hermione sat down on the counter of the sink and said: "I'm all ears."  
  
~*~  
  
Ron grinned. " Hey, Fred, how about another drink?"  
  
Fred shook his head. " I think that's enough for you, Ron."  
  
Ron looked disgruntled as he set the glass down. It left a wet ring on the table where he had it last. Both he and Fred stared at the wet ring for a while. " I think we ought to tell Harry to pack the party up."  
  
" Yeah, that's what I was thinking. It's really late."  
  
" Actually, I'm more worried about Ginny. I think we ought to take her home." Fred leaned on his elbow and then looked down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, a bit nervously. " I've never seen her so upset. Not even after Jason."  
  
" I don't know. It seems she was more upset after Jason."  
  
" Well, nevertheless! It doesn't even matter now when she was more upset. I'm telling Harry to wrap the party up." Ron stood up and then went with Fred to tell Harry about how it was definitely time to end the party.  
  
~*~  
  
" Ginny, listen." Hermione put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. " I've listened you out. And I'm sorry but I think that, honestly, Draco won't come back. He's just - - I don't know, I guess he's just not your perfect match."  
  
" No, it's alright, I understand." Ginny whispered, her lips numb from crying. A tear split away from one of her eyelashes where it had rested momentarily. It splashed wetly on Hermione's elbow.  
  
" Chin up!" Hermione tilted Ginny's chin upwards. " You're like my little sister, Ginny, and I won't let some stringbean punk hurt your feelings."  
  
" That's right." Ginny frowned, her red hair fluttering around her head angrily as she stood up, shaking her head. " I won't let this get me down!" Her breath came out in short, quick gasps. " I've had enough of waiting on a man when they don't care about me!" Her chest heaved up and down as she let out a shaky sigh. " But I'll miss him."  
  
Hermione nodded slowly. "Draco's - well - shaken up emotionally. I don't think he's ever been normal. He was always a bit odd to me."  
  
Ginny hugged Hermione. " Thank you, Herm. I'll remember your words of advice." Ginny's tears were cold through the fabric of Hermione's shirt.  
  
" Don't cry anymore. Strong girls don't cry. Chin up, darling, chin up." Hermione laughed. " Just like Professor McGonagall when she was teaching the girls the proper way to walk through the outdoors graduation set for the graduation ceremony."  
  
" I still can't believe it rained at the end of the graduation." Ginny huffed out, laughing. " Mine was perfectly sunny."  
  
" Well, Harry did end up destroying You-Know-Who at the end of the graduation ceremony. Perhaps it matched the - well - mood of the event, if you know what I mean." Hermione pushed an escaped strand of hair back behind her ear. " Now, let's go back to the party, alright?"  
  
" Alright." Ginny felt lighter then a feather as she left the bathroom.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry approached Hermione just as Hermione walked into the room, Ginny beside her. Harry turned to Ginny and said, softly: "Excuse us for a minute, okay?" Ginny nodded and Harry and Hermione split aside from Ginny.  
  
" Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked.  
" I think we should get going. It's late, and I'm worried about Ginny. If Draco returns for some reason . . ."  
  
" He won't. I know it." Hermione replied.  
  
" Woman's intuition." Harry smiled. " Thank goodness that one of us has a sixth sense. I seem to believe Draco will return."  
  
" He won't." Hermione said, firmly. " And that's that."  
  
" Nevertheless, we should wrap this party up a bit, so then we can go home, don't you think?" Harry put his arms around her, Hermione's rounded stomach brushing his own. " We have gifts to try out."  
  
Hermione shook her head, chuckling, and then said: " I'll break the bad news, alright?"  
  
" I'll tell the guys, SOME of them are a bit rowdy and it's not from fizzy cola." Harry walked over to Oliver Wood's table, where there seemed to be a separate party of its own.  
  
~*~  
  
Ginny sat in the dark and cold coat room, watching guests leaving the banquet areas. The parking lot was slowly emptied as wizards-posing-as-Muggles drove away in cars, however poor their driving abilities were. Ginny finally stood up when Fred and George walked by.  
  
" Come on, Ginny, no use moping about it. Draco's gone, and be glad." Fred said, with a lopsided grin.  
  
George nodded.  
  
" Does everyone know about this?" Ginny asked, embarrassed.  
  
" Just people that won't hold it against you." Ron said, then turned to Molly and Arthur Weasley behind him. " Mum, dad, do you think we should go by Floo powder and shrink that crummy Muggle car so we can carry it home?"  
  
" I think that'd be a good idea. I'm tired of hour-long struggles to get it started." Mr. Weasley admitted. " Say, Molly, why wasn't Bill here? Charlie and Percy made it, even though they left early."  
  
" Arthur, surely you remember!" Molly raised her eyebrows.  
  
" Oh!" Mr. Weasley, who's memory was rather bad to begin with, suddenly said: " Ah, yes."  
  
The lone Weasley, Bill, had remained at the Weasley's home to decorate it for a surprise party that was going to be held for Harry and Hermione. Harry and Hermione were to stop by after the anniversary party just for good time's sakes, just like they often dropped in after events that the Weasleys and the young Potter couple attended.  
  
" Well, we'll be off." The Weasleys all rushed through the doors to go outside, where they proceeded to shrink the car. Then, they went back inside and left the premises of the banquet halls by Floo Powder through the chimney in the room.  
  
~*~  
  
An hour later  
  
~*~  
  
Draco had a hard time finding the right place. Finally he stood before the banquet halls. He walked inside and then found Banquet Hall 14, and through the wooden doors with the flickering `Exit' sign he went, looking around the dark and empty room. Some Muggle man was vacuuming the carpet in the back and a woman was trying to clear dishes from the table.  
  
They both looked up as Draco stood there, feeling numb.  
  
She left.  
  
She didn't wait for him. She lost hope in him.  
  
He didn't know where they lived. He had once known, but he couldn't remember now, he hadn't even been anywhere near the neighborhood the Weasleys lived in for a while. Surely the Potters or Weasleys wouldn't invite him anywhere along NOW. He had lost coldly and bitterly in a world where time waits for nobody, where first come first serve rules all laws. He'd never see her again.  
  
His fingers felt numb, his mind reeling. He felt the pansies slip from his fingers and fall to the ground, the tender snapping sound of the flower heads as they broke and mutilated. The rustle of the leaves made him turn away. It was the sound of heartbreak.  
  
~*~  
  
THE END  
  
~*~  
  
A/N: Yes that is how I wanted it to end. I really don't think Draco and Ginny would end up together anyway because J.K. Rowling sure doesn't hint towards it. But I do believe there might be some romance, but never developed entirely.  
  
A/N: Unless for some odd reason I get 50 reviews (which I won't) then I won't write any more to this. High school takes so much time! * angry pout * I will produce a story sometime soon though. Never anything long though. 


	6. Chapter 6

****

Author's Note: This chapter is upon Gary Skinner's request! Thank you for your support! Reading your reviews made me feel like I owe it to people to add some more! Here it goes…

~* Chapter 6 *~

**_A year later_**

Draco stopped in front of a store. It was average for a store, but it looked lost in all the other wonderful stores in Diagon Alley. While the others consisted of blinking lights, flashing displays, moving windows, sliding curtains, and many other wonderful things, this one was plain as a plank and had an old wooden sign that read: 'Weasley's Joke Shop'. Beneath it, in very messy handwriting that seemed to be nearly illegible, was: 'Family owned'. 

He almost felt sick.

So here was a link to the Weasleys. After all this time!

His hand reached out, slightly brushing the wooden entrance, wondering heavily if he ought to walk inside or not. Gently he pushed it open, finally, and the door swung inwards so hard it must have dented the wall. He winced at the loud whacking sound.

If he wanted to walk in with some sort of entrance, he just messed it up for himself. A nervous feeling crossed his body and his palms felt sweaty; his face seemed to heat up unusually.

There was nobody at the counter, so he figured he shouldn't worry about having a Weasley see him until a bit later on. With a more assured range of body movements, Draco strolled around inside the shop, examining a couple various things. There were all sorts of childish pranks hanging on the walls, lined up on the floor, scattered on tables, and even suspended from the ceiling. He wouldn't have been surprised if the candles in the ancient chandelier hanging above were fake, made of rubber or some other junk.

Most of the store's contents looked like junk.

Though someone kept it clean, with the dust wiped down to minimum, and the floor was polished nicely, the products didn't seem too appealing.

He held up a little rubber circle. He squeezed it. The circle went right through his palm and then disappeared. Wondering if he'd end up paying for it, Draco looked around for this rubber circle. He found it, finally, in his coat pocket. He read the paper attached to it:

_Amazing disappearing disc. Good to use on old folks to make them think they are losing their memory. More on back._

Draco flipped it around. Dozens of ideas of pranks to be performed with just this little disc were written there. He shuddered and then put the disc away quickly.

There was, by far, the most ugliest hat in the universe lying on the counter of the store. It was black, somewhat a fedora hat, but there was this awful rim around it that made it look like the center of the hat was glued to an upside-down cymbal. Then, there was the feathered plume sticking from the hat. It was hideous, scragglier then the bare tree branches outside. The inside of the hat was straw, lots of it. 

Draco put the hat on his head, wondering what it did. He looked down at himself to see that his clothing changed. He was wearing the tackiest, most tasteless clothing that he had ever seen.

The tag on the hat said:

_Genuine Fashion Distorter. Hat will adapt to whatever the owner feels is the most tacky outfit. Good to give as a joke gift._

He laughed softly.

Just then, the doorbells clanged noisily as someone else walked through. The soft creaking sound of a baby carriage rattled in the air. Then, voices.

" Should we find Ron?"

" I'll leave James here."

Footsteps left the room. Only two people remained in the room – a woman and a baby. Draco kept the hat firm on his head, his back turned to the people. He was worried about whom it was. He didn't want to be banished from the store or anything if they recognized him.

Draco pretended to be very busy in sorting through various souvenir key-chains. The problem was, even the souvenirs were pranks. When you tried to latch the key-chain's ring on something, it would literally slide off, as if the ring was made of water and not metal. 

" Bwa!" The baby squealed loudly.

" Wait until Daddy gets back." The mother was scolding. The baby had obviously tried to yank something off of a shelf and she didn't want to buy it without the father's O.K.

Draco waited for the couple to leave with their baby.

Suddenly, Ron barged into the room, his footsteps distinguishable from the other adults since he still walked like a child, hurriedly, and talking loudly the whole time, his breath in beat to the steps. " I'm so glad you came. How's James? I haven't seen the baby for a few days now."

Draco watched from the corner of his eye at the couple. He could recognize them now. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, both dressed nicely in outfits good enough for some sort of grand festival. The baby had a striking resemblance to Harry, but the hair was Hermione's. Draco wondered how the kid would ever get a brush through hair that thick.

Draco tilted the hat down on his head to cover his face more. If anything, he was still the badly-dressed gentleman; they could not know he was there. Once the Potters were gone, he'd ask Ron or someone if he can go see Ginny, very quickly, of course. He had to apologize once and for all.

" James had a bit of a fever yesterday." Hermione said, concerned. " I gave him some of that Muggle medicine – I guess I'm just used to my mother's old fashioned cures for things."

Draco winced at the idea. Being a respectable witch and being dependent on Muggle things is just painful to know. 

Ron held the child up, smiling. " My little godson."

They all talked for a while, and Draco felt himself grow very impatient. Why don't they get going, little baby and all? He huddled closer into the collar of his tacky coat, wishing that if anything, he'd yank his hat off before they find him dressed like this.

Hermione finally said: " Well, we gotta get James to bed, it's almost his naptime."

" Mine, too." Harry said, exasperated.

" Quidditch still breaking your back, huh, Harry?" Ron said, shaking his head. " How in all hell do you manage it?" Ron had his sleeves rolled up, and his arms were also covered with freckles, and dusted with rust-colored hair. 

" I manage somehow." Harry replied, and then turned to Hermione. "Do you want to talk to Ginny while we're here?"

**_Ginny! Perhaps he'd get to see her? _**Draco felt his heartbeat in his ears, which was either the most annoying feeling in the world or the most pleasant. The answer was a mystery.

" She's stopping by this evening with Sam." Hermione said.

Sam?

Draco felt his stomach drop suddenly. So! Ginny had found himself someone else, while he had wallowed in a pit of self-misery, not just from Pansy but from Ginny as well. Now the pit swelled even larger. He was drowning in it, he could feel it, his breath suddenly catching in his throat.

" Sam?" He heard Harry ask. 

Harry didn't seem to be aware of who this man was, either. This made Draco feel a lot more relieved.

" You know, Samantha? Her adopted daughter?"

Adopted daughter!

Then, either Ginny married and didn't feel like making her own kids, or she was still unmarried and chose to have her own kid. Draco hoped it was the latter, in fact, he WISHED it was the latter, but if wishes came true then Pansy would have still been alive.

" She chose a name already. That's great." Harry put his hands in his pockets.

" Is Ginny here?" Hermione asked.

" Yeah. Out in back." Ron motioned to the back of the store.

" This place is a regular family business, isn't it?" Harry commented, looking around. " Looks great."

" For a junk heap." Ron commented. Ron was blunt, but at least he was honest. " Ginny keeps insisting that we need to keep it how it is. She's not much of a neat-freak, if you ask me."

" She never was." Hermione said, and then sighed as James began to cry loudly again. " Oh, Jamie, not now…"

James threw his little fists into the air, his body shaking. " Is he okay? Maybe he's still sick." Harry knelt down by the stroller, for James was returned to the stroller from Ron's arms already.

Ron asked: " Should I bring some water or food for him?"

" Everyone, calm down." Hermione laughed. " He's not going to explode."

Draco had to admit that he, himself, felt his entire body go into goose bumps when the baby began to cry. Perhaps it was just the baby's horribly shrill voice, though. Hermione pulled out a bottle from somewhere (she was carrying about three bags with her of things), and then she administered the nipple of the bottle to the baby. 

Harry looked content for now. " I don't know what to do with him, sometimes."

" I don't blame you." Ron looked scared out of his mind, as if he had seen the gates of Heaven flash before him. He wasn't used to babies crying.

Draco watched as Harry and Hermione said their good-byes. Then, the doorbells rang again as they left. Draco felt a weight lift from his chest. He watched Ron go back to wherever he came from, and with a satisfied smile, he yanked the hat back off.

His clothing slowly returned to normal, and he began to look through things again. He found a few other oddities, but his mind was not with his body but with Ginny. He wondered how Sam looked like. He almost wondered if Sam would ever be his own daughter as well.

It felt stupid, to even think that.

For all he knew, Ginny might hate him. She might have some sort of punching bag with his face painted on it. She might… she might…

He sighed.

She might be married.

He turned to the counter. Perhaps the easiest way to handle things was to buy something and see where things go from there. He grabbed the goofy hat, for it had been of service to him, and he resolutely pressed the hat down onto the counter. He didn't notice it, but the counter was activated to sound a beep when something was laid on it.

People rushed from the backroom to greet their customer. Freckled, red-haired faces piled before him. Fred and George took a look at him, and they fell silent. Ron, standing in back, pushed by, saying: "What's the holdup? Serve the customer!"

He pushed the two twins apart, and he caught sight of the customer.

" Oh." Ron swallowed. The Adam's Apple in his throat bobbed. The ticking of the clock hanging on the wall (shaped like a cat swinging its tail) filled the room noisily. 

" Well? What do I have to do for service?" Draco asked, finally.

" Yes, yes, of course. Sorry." Ron took the hat and then rang the price up on the ancient-looking price register. From the drawers popped a rubber snake. It fell with a hollow thud to the floor. More silence followed. 

" Sorry about that, Ron. Kind of a joke…" Fred said, finally. 

George shuffled on his feet, then murmured: "I have some things to - - to sort through." He went back into the old storerooms. Draco waited patiently as Ron put his hat into the cash register, then realized what he was doing and shoved the hat into a bag. He pulled it out again, saying: " You want it shrunk so it can fit in your pocket or in a bag? Maybe gift-wrapped?"

Draco shrugged.

Ron took the easy way out and handed him the bag and the hat, too startled to bag the hat again. He put his hands on his hips and then said: "Well, enjoy. Um, long time no see."

Draco nodded.

" How's it going?" Ron asked.

" Fine." Draco replied. He traced his finger on the rim of the hat. Then, he said: " Hey, your sister. Is she here?"

" Why do you want to know?" Ron frowned.

" I gotta apologize to her." Draco said, stiffly. " Not your business, kid."

Ron seemed to turn a shade of red matching his hair. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no sound came out. He closed his mouth again, the frown stretching weakly into a lop-sided smile. " I'll go get her." He turned to the storeroom and said, on the top of his lungs: "Ginny, someone here for you!"

" Who?" Ginny's voice called back.

Draco felt sick for a minute.

Ron didn't get to reply, though, since Ginny was suddenly standing before Draco, examining him in surprise with her eyes. "What… what are you doing here?" She asked, finally.

Draco felt his hands shake as he took hers. 

Ron slowly backed out of the room, knowing quite well that he had worn out his welcome.

" I'm so sorry." Draco said, finally. " Remember, a year ago…?"

Ginny didn't say anything.

" I came back. I swear I did. I came all the way back, I walked a good thirty or forty blocks, and I took flowers and everything." He stopped. " I'm sorry." He repeated. " I was wrong. I … I mean…" He looked away. " That's all I wanted to tell you. Sorry."

" Oh." She finally spoke, directly to him. Her eyes looked up at his. She was crying.

" No, no, stop, don't cry." He felt awful just then. " Yeah, I know, I shouldn't have come back. I'm sorry for making your day bad, or something. I'll go, if you want. I just had to tell you I was sorry, and you were right." Draco couldn't say anymore.

Ginny hugged him close, pressing her eyes down into his chest. " You idiot! Don't say you're sorry! You're so stupid, you know that?" She began to cry harder. " I'm not mad! I wasn't mad at all! I was mad at myself…" She began to laugh. 

Draco felt very uncomfortable. He didn't know how to react.

" I can't believe you came back. I thought - - I thought I was stupid to force myself on you. I disrespected how Pansy died, and, and…" She couldn't say anything more. They were both lost at words.

Draco wrapped his arms around her.

" I'm sorry." He said, once again.

" I'm sorry." She said, at the same time. " For leaving."

She said, suddenly:

" A lot has happened, though. I got myself a little home, and I have Sam, she's my adopted daughter – from China – oh, and then there's Harry and Hermione's baby, James… we have to tell each other sometime."

Draco smiled. " Does tomorrow sound okay? Noon? We can go for butter beer."

She smiled back. "We can start all over again."

~*~

A/N: Ah! I worked fluff and joy into the ending! Do you want more, Gary Skinner? I can write more. I'm so glad you like my writing so much.

Plus, whoever else read this all, thanks. I would appreciate reviews/comments.

__


	7. Alternative ENDING

Alternate Ending for "Anniversary" suggested by Dick Wightman 

(This is an alternate ending that I proposed to LittleMaggie. I don't disagree with her conclusion that a successful pairing of Draco and Ginny is unlikely, but incurable romantic that I am, I felt that at least a window of opportunity should be left open. I pick the story up here, with Draco watching Devin in the ice cream parlor. It stays exactly as you wrote it for quite awhile… until the Weasleys are leaving the party, but I think you need to start here to see what I have built on… My changes are in italics.)

Draco's heart suddenly squeezed. Devin was feeding a ghost. A ghost of a love that could never be fed, ever again, and yet Devin did it. The ice cream that was to be his mother's was melting from the warmth and lights in the shop, but Devin kept it there, waiting to see when it would slowly perhaps be eaten by the ghost - waiting for what will never come, for what lingered in the past. 

Draco felt a catch in his stomach, a pull that hurt. He had been romancing a ghost as well - the ghost of Pansy. He had been a complete and total reject of love and the opposite sex ever since her death. There had not been a day when he hadn't reflected on her, when he hadn't piled ice cream for Pansy, this syrup-sweet bowl of devotion that was of no use anymore. If someone was to consume that bowl, it would have to be someone else. 

The ghost of romance that Draco had been holding so close needed to be able to escape. Suddenly, Draco turned around, his heart beating wildly. This was it. He had to stop offering his affection to something that was gone forever, that was in his past. How stupid could he have been, to jerk away whatever he had let Ginny taste, for a while, only to return to a sorry state - like Devin. 

Devin, sitting there all alone, feet swinging up above the floor, tiny sneakers streaked with mud, speaking to his mother, offering her ice cream that wasn't being eaten. Draco walked quickly down the street in the opposite direction. He found himself standing in front of the flower shop again. With a flourish, he burst inside, the bells jangling overhead, and he stopped in front of the shop owner's desk. The man looked up, tiny metal-rimmed glasses perched on a long hooked nose. 

"May I help you, young man?" 

" I want some flowers." Draco said. A weight lifted from his heart. God, was it good, to buy flowers again. To have someone to buy flowers for. To have flowers in his hand. God, was it good! 

The man smiled. " What occasion?" 

Draco remembered that the last time he had purchased flowers, they were wrapped in a black ribbon, put onto the top of a handsome oak casket, which was lowered into the soft folds of Earth, never to see the world again. Inside that casket was Pansy, Pansy that had faded away right before his own eyes. The siren noise flashed in his mind again, the blinking lights of the ambulance. He almost backed away, then bit his lower lip, stiffly: " In a form of apology, sir." 

" Apology." He took in a deep breath. His nostrils flared and then flattened against the hooked nose, that of a hawk's. The man asked: " May I ask to whom? Relative, friend, otherwise?"

` What is this? 20 Questions?' Draco thought, feeling a sudden anger. It was entirely his own private damn business what he wanted to buy and to whom. He could be buying flowers for his dog for all anyone cared. " To a girl." Draco said. 

" Ah!" The man grinned happily. " I will be right back." He ducked into a backroom. Draco stood before the desk, twiddling his thumbs a bit like some sort of nervous love-struck teenager. His eyes fell upon a lovely flower arrangement, until he read the words on it: ` In deepest Memory of ______________'. Draco remembered Pansy's funeral once again.

//\\Flashback//\\

A thin drizzle was falling, the ground a muddy mess beneath his feet. All around him were people he had invited - Parkinsons and Malfoys. Nobody other then that, not even Crabbe and Goyle. He didn't want anyone else to see Pansy, his beautiful, beautiful Pansy, lowered into the ground. The Parkinsons had asked some sort of man to come to give a bit of a blessing for the funeral. Draco did not know what religion they were - if they were any - but it felt comforting to listen to the man. He told of Pansy and the good things she had done, speaking of her in ways she had never been spoken of in real life. 

Then, the man asked if anyone wanted to say anything. ` Yes! I do!' Draco wanted to shout, to begin telling everyone who Pansy was to him, how it was completely unfair that it was her in that cold wooden casket. 

The drizzle turned into a downpour, howling in Draco's ears. Men with shovels began to push heavy clumps of soil over onto the casket. The mud fell heavily on the casket. Draco watched as people began to walk away, shielding themselves from the rain. 

But who was shielding Pansy? They would all go off and home to eat dinner by candlelight, to sleep on their feather beds, to make love to their partners, to dream sweet dreams. Pansy was in her mud-spattered, cold, wet casket. Draco remained standing in front of the grave, watching as the men buried it. Not even when Mrs. Parkinson came up to him, telling him they will take him home, did he willingly go. 

He slowly turned away, listening to the crunch-swish sound of the ground being broken up wit the stiff metal shovels and then heaved onto Pansy. It was the single most horrible moment of his life, the one that remained like a twisted image in a shattered mirror - seven years bad luck. 

//\\ end of flashback //\\ 

The man returned from the backroom holding a happy bouquet of roses like the one that had pushed the pansies out of their display in the store window. Draco looked at them and nodded. "Yes, I'll take those, but I would also like some pansies. I saw some nice pansies in the window display on the way by a few minutes ago." 

" Those hideous old things? I tossed them out." The man exclaimed. 

" I'd like them, please." Draco said, firmly. The man shrugged and then went to the garbage bag by the door. He dug the flowers out. The flowers weren't even wilted; they were simply not in the style now for the winter. They were also not very pretty pansies. 

" You can have them, gratis to the shop." The man said, then handed them to Draco. " Would you like some foil or a ribbon to wrap that up for you?" 

" No." Draco said. "No, they are pansies, and that is the only thing that is important." He hugged them to himself and then left the store.

Chapter 5

Ginny jerked the cold handle of the brush through her hair. The two chopsticks lay on the counter of the bathroom, both slightly tangled in single strands of hair. Having unusually thick, bouncy hair, Ginny had the most awful time getting it combed. Usually people comb their hair on the surface and it'll be fine. Her hair was so thick the brush's bristles didn't go through her hair entirely, leaving the underside of her hair matted and tangled. Ginny had to tilt her head to the side and then comb from the bottom as well, which was not only annoying but painful as well. Her dress was drying out a bit. Since she was in the confines of the ladies' room, she had locked the door and then unzipped her dress, leaving it on the heater in the corner of the room to dry up a bit. 

She stood in her slip and in an undershirt that she'd worn since the fancy stitching on her dress irritated her skin unless she had something to shield her neck and chest from it. Despite her tries, her eyes looked dark now, almost frightening in effect, due to the fact that her mascara had run. Nearly every lady knows (and gentlemen can imagine) what murder it can be to wash black ink-like substance off your face with only your hands and very stale, tepid water that smelled of rust. 

Ginny dipped her hand under the sink, the water splashing away black streaks that ran down her fingers. The warm atmosphere in the bathroom gave her comfort and she moved freely inside it. She looked into the mirror again, trying to analyze what she saw. It had been a while since she had last cut her hair. Molly Weasley would usually cut the Weasley's hair, or Arthur if he had time, but nevertheless neither of these people had any knowledge in fashionable haircuts. 

Ron was prime example. Since the Weasleys were very interested in saving money lately, Ron had his hair cut by Arthur. Now Ron had an interesting haircut where he had very wispy bangs in front, which were short, like baby hairs. In the back his hair was longer, and it looked slightly spiked on top. It looked rather odd, as if someone had cut it different lengths all over. Ginny had saved her hair for a long time to keep it from being cut, for reasons she didn't want to explain to her parents. Now she wondered if she looked ugly with her hair that way. 

Was this the reason Draco might have been so - repulsed - kissing her? It couldn't have been, though! Pansy wasn't attractive either, but Draco had no problem with her. Ginny heard a rap on the door. She turned to look at the doorway and she said, softly: 

"Who is it?"

" Ginny, is that you in there?" Hermione's voice asked. 

" Yes." Ginny replied, scurrying to the heater to get her dress. 

" Can I come in?" Hermione sounded very kind and gentle. 

Ginny shook her head and then realized Hermione couldn't see her shake her head so she called out: " No. Sorry." 

Hermione was silent for a moment. " I hope you're not crying?" Hermione questioned.

" No." Ginny said, pulling the warm and still semi-wet dress onto her. She had trouble zipping it in the back. Molly Weasley had zipped it up for her when she was dressing earlier in the afternoon. 

" Ginny, I know that you're upset about Draco. Please don't lock yourself up in there like this." Hermione sounded very upset.

" I'm just drying my dress out. I was outside, remember?" Ginny replied. This was partially true, after all. 

Hermione shook her head. " I hope so." 

" I'm fine, really." Ginny wiped at her eyes furiously with the paper towel in her hand. She knew her mascara was even more smeared now. It looked as if she had been crying for hours on end. She debated whether to open the door or not. Finally, Ginny jerked the bathroom door open.

" Oh! You have been crying!" Hermione exclaimed when she caught sight of Ginny and the mascara that had run from her eyelashes and to where it ought not to be on her face. 

" No, it's not what you think. I've just smudged it, myself." Ginny explained, but she could see Hermione didn't believe her.

" You know, Ginny, there are plenty of fish in the sea." Hermione began.

" Please, it isn't like that at all! Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

" Well, I hope this isn't what I think it is." Hermione looked at Ginny with understanding eyes. " If you'd like to talk to me about anything, I'm always here. I can listen to you, if you really wish to speak about something."

Ginny nodded slowly. " I guess there is something I'd like to talk to you about." Ginny admitted. 

Hermione sat down on the counter of the sink and said: "I'm all ears."

~*~ 

Ron grinned. " Hey, Fred, how about another drink?" 

Fred shook his head. " I think that's enough for you, Ron."

Ron looked disgruntled as he set the glass down. It left a wet ring on the table where he had it last. Both he and Fred stared at the wet ring for a while. " I think we ought to tell Harry to pack the party up."

" Yeah, that's what I was thinking. It's really late." 

" Actually, I'm more worried about Ginny. I think we ought to take her home." Fred leaned on his elbow and then looked down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, a bit nervously. " I've never seen her so upset. Not even after Jason." 

" I don't know. It seems she was more upset after Jason."

" Well, nevertheless! It doesn't even matter now when she was more upset. I'm telling Harry to wrap the party up." Ron stood up and then went with Fred to tell Harry about how it was definitely time to end the party.

~*~ 

" Ginny, listen." Hermione put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. " I've listened you out. And I'm sorry but I think that, honestly, Draco won't come back. He's just - - I don't know, I guess he's just not your perfect match." 

" No, it's alright, I understand." Ginny whispered, her lips numb from crying. A tear split away from one of her eyelashes where it had rested momentarily. It splashed wetly on Hermione's elbow.

" Chin up!" Hermione tilted Ginny's chin upwards. " You're like my little sister, Ginny, and I won't let some stringbean punk hurt your feelings."

" That's right." Ginny frowned, her red hair fluttering around her head angrily as she stood up, shaking her head. " I won't let this get me down!" Her breath came out in short, quick gasps. " I've had enough of waiting on a man when they don't care about me!" Her chest heaved up and down as she let out a shaky sigh. " But I'll miss him."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Draco's - well - shaken up emotionally. I don't think he's ever been normal. He was always a bit odd to me." 

Ginny hugged Hermione. " Thank you, Herm. I'll remember your words of advice." Ginny's tears were cold through the fabric of Hermione's shirt. 

" Don't cry anymore. Strong girls don't cry. Chin up, darling, chin up." Hermione laughed. " Just like Professor McGonagall when she was teaching the girls the proper way to walk through the outdoors graduation set for the graduation ceremony." 

" I still can't believe it rained at the end of the graduation." Ginny huffed out, laughing. " Mine was perfectly sunny." 

" Well, Harry did end up destroying You-Know-Who at the end of the graduation ceremony. Perhaps it matched the - well - mood of the event, if you know what I mean." Hermione pushed an escaped strand of hair back behind her ear. " Now, let's go back to the party, alright?" 

" Alright." Ginny felt lighter then a feather as she left the bathroom.

~*~

Harry approached Hermione just as Hermione walked into the room, Ginny beside her. Harry turned to Ginny and said, softly: "Excuse us for a minute, okay?" 

Ginny nodded and Harry and Hermione split aside from Ginny.

" Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked. 

" I think we should get going. It's late, and I'm worried about Ginny. If Draco returns for some reason . . ." 

" He won't. I know it." Hermione replied. " Woman's intuition."

Harry smiled. " Thank goodness that one of us has a sixth sense. I seem to believe Draco will return."

" He won't." Hermione said, firmly. " And that's that."

" Nevertheless, we should wrap this party up a bit, so then we can go home, don't you think?" Harry put his arms around her, Hermione's rounded stomach brushing his own. " We have gifts to try out." 

Hermione shook her head, chuckling, and then said: " I'll break the bad news, alright?"

" I'll tell the guys, SOME of them are a bit rowdy and it's not from fizzy cola." Harry walked over to Oliver Wood's table, where there seemed to be a separate party of its own.

~*~ 

Ginny sat in the dark and cold coat room, watching guests leaving the banquet areas. The parking lot was slowly emptied as wizards-posing-as-Muggles drove away in cars, however poor their driving abilities were. Ginny finally stood up when Fred and George walked by. 

" Come on, Ginny, no use moping about it. Draco's gone, and be glad." Fred said, with a lopsided grin. George nodded. 

" Does everyone know about this?" Ginny asked, embarrassed. 

" Just people that won't hold it against you." Ron said, then turned to Molly and Arthur Weasley behind him. " Mum, dad, do you think we should go by Floo powder and shrink that crummy Muggle car so we can carry it home?" 

" I think that'd be a good idea. I'm tired of hour-long struggles to get it started," Mr. Weasley admitted. " Come along, Ginny."

"No, dad, I need to think a bit. I'll be home in a little while," she replied. 

Mr. Weasley gave her a worried look and started to protest, but Molly gave him a nudge and a meaningful look and led him out.

~*~ 

Draco was standing at Pansy's grave. He had dug a hole in the snow, and the bunch of pansies from the flower store were resting in front of the stone. "Pansy", he thought, "You were one bright spot in my dark life. I wish we could have had a life together, and I don't know why that didn't happen, but I'm sorry… not only for our loss, but for my failure to understand what your presence in my life meant. You showed me that a Malfoy could be happy. When you died, I forgot that, and I apologize to you. Tonight I met someone, Ginny Weasley. You probably remember her. I don't know if she will be important to me or not. It would probably be better for her is she weren't, I certainly didn't make her happy for meeting me. But she showed me that I could look outside myself, that I could recognize pain in another, and that there was still more to life than being a Malfoy. I'm sorry, I should have learned that lesson from you."

~*~

Ginny waited till everyone was gone, then went out and slowly walked back to the park. Somehow, she didn't seem to notice the cold or snow. At the park, she went in. Draco was nowhere to be seen, and she cleared the snow and sat down on the bench. She felt sad, and a bit angry with her family, though she knew they only loved her and were concerned for her. She wondered where Draco had gone, what he was thinking now. Could she and Draco really mean as much to each other as it seemed? 

Perhaps, but then, perhaps not. Draco was right that there was much working against it. She sat for awhile longer, thinking the evening over almost minute by minute. As time passed, she realized that for the first time in a long while, she was contemplating and reacting to new events in her life… not Jason and the past. 

Perhaps it was time, she realized, to move on with her life. Certainly, she thought with a smile, it was time to move off of this cold park bench and go home. It was unlikely that she and Draco had a future together, but whether she saw him again or not, she would always be grateful to him and think of him as the handsome prince who woke her up from her troubled sleep. 

~*~ An hour later ~*~ 

Draco had a hard time finding the right place. Finally he stood before the banquet halls. He walked inside and then found Banquet Hall 14, and through the wooden doors with the flickering `Exit' sign he went, looking around the dark and empty room. Some Muggle man was vacuuming the carpet in the back and a woman was trying to clear dishes from the table. They both looked up as Draco stood there, feeling numb. She had gone. She didn't wait for him. She had lost hope in him. He didn't know where they lived. 

He had once known, but he couldn't remember now, he hadn't even been anywhere near the neighborhood the Weasleys lived in for a while. He doubted the Potters or Weasleys wouldn't invite him anywhere again. He had lost so much and so often. Perhaps he had lost once more and he would never see her again, or perhaps he might. Whatever happened, though, he would always be grateful to her. 

She had brought him out of the depths of his grief and helped him to realize what he was doing with his life, and how that dishonored the memory of Pansy. She had helped him to realize it was time to move on. He left the hall and walked back to the park. There was no one there. He left the roses on the bench and walked off into the snowy night. 

~*~ THE END ~*~ 

(Thank you for the lovely Alternative Ending! – From Maggie… I will post anything anyone else likes to come up with.)


End file.
